


Cowboys and Monsters

by frickfrackpaddywack, itspixiesthings



Series: Dandelion Love [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, BDSM, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bondage, Cowboys, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Gore, Horror, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Master/Slave, Murder, Painplay, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 65,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25492006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frickfrackpaddywack/pseuds/frickfrackpaddywack, https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: Rye Rivers is the Sheriff of the little mining town of Waysafe. Usually the job doesn’t afford him much excitement… that is, until a train pulls into town filled with cars full of dead bodies. Now he has a murderer on the loose in his area, and the town isn’t big enough for the two of them. He is not the only one to take an interest in these developments however, nor is he the only one who considers Waysafe their personal responsibility. Will teaming up with the sinister and mysterious Williams be his downfall, or his salvation?
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Dandelion Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666360
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a new story! We will likely be adding tags as we go, so please keep that in mind as you jump into this new adventure with us. We hope you enjoy it! Updates will be every Friday!
> 
> For additional tidbits, and fun extras, you can find us on twitter @DandelionLove20 and at https://dandelionl.wordpress.com/
> 
> HAPPY READING!

Waysafe.  
  
The town was quickly growing; some might have even called it a small city in it’s infancy by now. Williams certainly considered it so. He was, after all, far older than the township that he had nurtured from the shadows.  
  
It was modest enough when it was conceived. Centred around a mining industry, and now moderately famous for it’s unique resources, Williams had had a care in forging it’s foundations and it’s bedrock. Everyone involved in the establishment of Waysafe had been handpicked by him, to one degree or another, and he had watched the town blossom into adulthood from the safety of the shroud of nighttime.  
  
He was the shadow that lurked in the darkness of Waysafe. And he had his hands in everything to do with it, from it’s economy to the lives of it’s citizens. The Mayor, whomever it was, he had a care in handling. Puppets, that he guided in whatever ways he could. Some had worked for him directly. Others, he had had to manipulate and coerce. There were many who had never even been aware of his existence or influence.  
  
Law enforcement was generally even easier to control. They weren’t elected by the public, there were no polls to sway or rig or voters to manage. He told the Mayor who to appoint as Sheriff, and the Mayor obliged. Usually.

This time, things had gotten a little off course. For whatever reason, a Sheriff had been appointed that he did not have sway over. That was a problem, but a minor one. An irritant, but not insurmountable. He would simply have to _gain_ sway.  
  
He started with observing the good Sheriff. The man who was dedicated to serving the needs of the public, protecting his community. He was young, for such a position. Which spoke to his competency. That on it’s own was intriguing. Williams wasn’t in a rush… he was interested in him, and he had plenty of time on his hands after all. After the first few centuries of life, you stopped feeling rushed about much of anything.

Time was passing in sleepy little Waysafe, and as the mining industry continued to boom it became less and less sleepy. Williams was careful, more than ever, to keep his movements secretive, even as he brokered out of town deals for the sale of goods and the trade of resources. All of it had to be accounted for by hands not his own if his life in Waysafe was to be kept secure and undisturbed. The Sheriff was still a potential loose canon, but he didn’t mind the challenge. He hadn’t gotten close to him, not yet, but he would.  
  
He learned things as he took to the streets to hunt. Mingling with night society had multiple advantages; a steady supply of gossip to keep up with the going’s on, as well as the opportunity to feed. He didn’t kill, not usually. Not for any moral compunction, but rather a practical consideration. Dead bodies tended to invite investigations. Besides, if he killed everyone, he wouldn’t have a town to feed on. And he was quite proud of what he had built. Fostering it’s health and safety was part in parcel of caring for livestock, and killing when it was unnecessary to do so was not conducive to his goals.  
  
He moved through the dinner party like a being who’s feet floated on the air. He smiled, nodded to the ladies, swirled the wine in his glass. If he never moved to take a sip, well. Nobody noticed.  
  
“Strange times we’re living in now.” The man at his side, a Jack Winston, commented. He swirled the wine in his own glass, and took a long swig that told Williams that he was likely more accustomed to whisky than to wine. The red of it coated his lips for a moment before he licked them clean, an unrefined gesture. Williams didn’t mind, in fact he found it charming how rustic the people in Waysafe were. Out here in the middle of the desert, it was hard to care about polite societal conventions, though they did try.  
  
“Oh stop.” The woman at his elbow gave him a playful little shove as she chided him. “This is hardly a topic of social conversation, surely?” Her expression was light and amused, but her tone was clearly reproachful.  
  
“Oh? What is?” Williams smiled. He was marginally aware of a lot of the goings on in Waysafe as well as the surrounding area, but it always paid to know not only what was happening, but how much people knew about what was happening.  
  
The woman looked flustered, like she didn’t want to say. “Well, you know, the-”  
  
“The murders, sir.” Jack hastened to supply. “Have you not heard?”  
  
Ah, so that was it then. Williams _had_ heard about the murders, but was surprised that anyone in Waysafe had. They were, after all, some distance away. And he hoped to keep it that way. “Please, enlighten me.” He inclined his head towards him. An invitation to continue.  
  
“Well, they say there have been _several_ murders in the vicinity. Oh, nothing in Waysafe of course, but Farmsrise, Barrenfort… even all the way to Crippled Ridge, there has been a string of murder victims found. And do you know, there’s even rumors-”  
  
“Enough, Jack.” The woman looked shaken now. Her calm facade and pleasant smile had slipped to something a little more rattled, and annoyed. Williams paid careful attention to where she had cut the man off. Rumors of what, exactly? “It’s frightening enough without inventing monsters. My apologies, sir. My brother has a fascination with the fantastic.”  
  
“No apologies necessary, I assure you.” He said graciously. Internally he was very intrigued indeed. Rumours of monsters? That was interesting. He had heard of the murders, and had been on guard to make certain his own fair little city remained undisturbed by such things, but monsters? That made things a tad more… complicated.  
  
“But let’s speak of more glad tidings. Trade is doing well, and the mine is still making excellent profits, is that not so, Jack?” The woman smiled, smoothly changing the subject as she looked to Jack, who returned the smile. Williams could feel the irritation coming off of both of them in waves despite their little polite smiles and calm demeanours. She, for him having brought up the subject at all, and him for her having interrupted him and prevented him from truly discussing it when he’d clearly wished to.  
  
Nevertheless, he changed topic with a small dip of his head. “Ah! Yes, yes. Why, the materials we export are doing much to put us on the map! It’s certainly strange to think that only five years ago, nobody had ever heard of little Waysafe.”  
  
He gushed about the subject of economics like he was a master of it. Which, of course, he was. Williams was always quite impressed with the work Jack did for the economy of Waysafe. He and the Mayor worked tirelessly on trade negotiations and export import opportunities for Waysafe’s industries. If they didn’t know that they did so on Williams’ behalf, that was so much the better.

“We have you and our Mayor to thank for these economic successes.” He said with a graceful flourish.  
  
“And the miners!” Jack’s sister interjected. “Let us not forget the efforts of our laborers, Mr. Williams.” She reached for a glass of wine as she spoke, off a tray floating past them, her eyes flitting to the server. She looked far more at home with the glass than her brother did.  
  
“Of course, M’lady.” Williams tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I meant no slight. We have some of the finest working men in the country here in Waysafe.” That much was true. He was quite proud of what he considered his own, and that extended all the way from politically powerful figures down to the grunt workers. All of them were cogs in the machine of his city, and he didn’t take any of them for granted.  
  
“Oh!” Jack reached for a small hors d’oeuvre from a server’s tray. “Have you tried the buffalo? Apparently it’s been cured in a rare spice, just imported.” He popped the small bite in his mouth, and Williams watched him chew and swallow before continuing. “New stock of it is set to come in on the train tomorrow.”  
  
Williams nodded. “I had some earlier. It was marvelous.” He hadn’t, of course. He no longer had use for such kinds of foods. Some centuries ago he had missed it… but now, it was barely a thought in his mind. He excused himself with a nod, and meandered about to schmooze as he could. He needed to procure his own meal, after all, one the host was not about to provide himself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sheriff Rye Rivers is having a bad day

  
  


“That blasted train is late” Sheriff Rye Rivers grumbled, looking at his pocket watch for the third time in ten minutes. He didn’t know why he was feeling so nervous. Maybe it was all the strange killings they’d been hearing about, and the ‘inexplicable occurrences’ that had him so riled up. He still didn’t believe even half the rumours – people reading minds, or running faster than a train? What absolute nonsense. Maybe he needed stricter conditions on how much liquor was allowed at the saloon late at night? Old Man Thompson had certainly ranted and raved more than once about red-eyed monsters in the dark while drunk off his ass on sasparilla. He’d talk it over with his deputy once they had safely gotten the injured and ill off the train – assuming it ever showed up.

He squinted off into the distance, and he could just make out a small puff of smoke from the steam engine as it got closer to the town. It was strange – like so many things as of late – that it would be running so far behind schedule. He knew Will, the engine master, and he was a man keen on being punctual. It wasn’t like him to be even a minute behind schedule, let alone – he checked his watch – twelve whole minutes. Maybe they had run into engine trouble?

  
  


“Still not here yet, Sheriff?” Deputy Parker asked. Rye sighed, and shook his head, snapping his watch shut. His deputy laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Maybe they got hit by the red-eyed monster men Old Man Thompson keeps yammering on about,” he said, cackling at his own joke. Rye brushed him off, and peered again into the distance. The train didn’t seem much closer. Was it stopped? The sun was almost down, and he wanted those folks in before it got too dark to see well. 

  
  


“Maybe we should ride out to them,” Rye suggested. Parker shrugged, an easy grin sliding across his face.

“Whatever you say, Boss,” Parker said, tipping his wide brimmed hat. 

As Rye turned to leave, he saw the train start to move closer again. He sent up a silent prayer in thanks. The wastelands were no joke to cross, and they had already had to come through the harsh mountain pass. Landslides were quite the danger at this time of year. 

Rye waited for another fifteen minutes, and as the train got close enough to see, something seemed off. It was going much slower than it should have been. Maybe they really were having engine trouble. There was very little steam escaping it’s stack too. Were they out of fuel? That seemed highly unlikely. Will was very particular, not just about being on time. He always had enough fuel to last him and then some – ‘you can never be too careful’ he’d always say. No, something was wrong, and Rye didn’t like it one bit. Parker was whistling beside him, rubbing a spot of dirt off his boots with some spit and his thumb. He didn’t seem bothered at all. His cheerful tune was putting Rye on edge though. 

“Parker!” Rye snapped, making his deputy stumble in surprise.

“Yes Sheriff?” Parker asked as he dusted himself off, trying to pretend like he hadn’t almost fallen on his ass.

“You see anything wrong with the train?” Rye asked softly to avoid any of the gathering townsfolk from overhearing. He didn’t need anyone panicking. Parker stared at the oncoming train, eyes squinting at it in concentration. He suddenly blinked, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he opened his eyes in shock.

“It’s coasting,” Parker said softly. “Are they out of fuel or something?” he wondered.

“Something’s wrong,” Rye whispered. He saw Parker give a small, grim nod, as he touched his pistol.

Within a half hour the train was before them, barely moving as it lost its momentum. It came to a perfect halt right before them, like it had planned to come to stop there. The train gave a loud groan as it settled, and before anyone had a chance to move in to open the doors to help, Deputy Parker was calling them all to stand back. Normally Will’s grumpy old man face was there to greet them, but there was no sign of him.

Rye went up to the nearest door, and his blood ran cold as he saw that the lock on it was broken, the door already ajar. He rushed inside, and almost puked. The train car was full of dead bodies, each on trapped in various states of panic and anguish. In front of him was a woman, her clothes torn, deep gouges on her neck and arms, her face twisted into a look of terror and agony, her mouth open in a silent scream, tears still drying on her pale skin. This was recent. _Very_ recent.

Everyone looked like they had been trying to escape from something – but what? He started to check the bodies, to see if anyone was still alive. No one had a breath left in them. He went from one car to the next, each one its own scene of horror. The strangest thing was that everyone was covered in wounds but there wasn’t a single drop of blood outside of what was on their clothing. Someone had killed these people and taken the care to clean up after? That didn’t make sense! Why leave the bodies then? It would have made more sense to dump the bodies in the wasteland if they didn’t want anyone to know – unless it was supposed to be a message of some kind.

Rye stuck his head out the nearest window of the train, and whistled for Parker. His deputy arrived a minute later by the window.

“You need me inside?” he asked.

“We’ve got a real big problem on our hands,” Rye told him.

“How big?” Parker asked, stretching up on his toes, trying to see inside.

“I need you to brace yourself and come inside,” Rye said slowly, holding eye contact with him. He could see people milling about, looking nervous. He didn’t want an even bigger mess, so he needed them to remain calm until he and Parker had decided what to do. Parker nodded at him and rushed to the nearest door, and Rye heard him wretch for several minutes before he saw him. Parker looked pale, but better than any of the corpses on the train.

“What the hell happened here?” Parker asked, looking a touch green still.

“Someone killed a train full of the sick and injured, and cleaned up but left the bodies. I’m not sure what this all means but we need to -” Rye started when he heard a loud sneeze. He pulled his gun before he had time to think, and whipped around to see a small, hidden door that he had missed in the face of the sea of dead bodies. Quiet as a mouse, he walked over and wrenched open the door.

Inside the small space was a young man, covered in blood, his eyes wide, and he was mumbling, his body shaking as he stared into the distance.

“Red-eyes,” the man said, his voice soft and warbling. “Like fireflies, they glow…,” he said, not once seeming to be aware that Rye and Parker were before him.

There was a scream from behind them, and a man was standing in the door to the train car they were on, gripping the edges of the door frame as he tried not to pass out. Behind him were other curious onlookers, and Rye cursed.

“Is that man alive?” a woman shrieked, covering her nose and mouth with a handkerchief.

“Red-eyes burning like the sun,” the man sang.

“He’s covered in blood!” a man yelled, pointing at him. “He’s the only one alive in here!”

There was a murmur of confused horror as information started to spread out through the crowd, and Rye cursed. Now they’d want this kid dead. There was no way he had done all this damage, but no one would care. He looked like he had seen something terrible, and he was probably their only witness, and now he’d have to fight to keep him alive to question him about what happened.

“Alright, everyone off the train!” Parker yelled, blocking one of the doorways.

“No way! My sister was on this train! I want answers!” another woman bellowed.

Rye didn’t want to spook the young man even more, but things were about to get ugly, so he grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him from his hiding hole, and dragged him through the crowd and off the train. They had barely taken two steps before being bombarded with questions and raised fists.

“Sheriff, are there not any other survivors?” one desperate man asked, tears in his eyes. Rye sighed, wondering who was on this train that this man knew. 

“As far as we can tell, he’s the only one,” Rye said, shoving forward. It felt heartless but he didn’t have time to comfort everyone in the town while trying to stop a mob from forming.

“Did that kid kill them?!” several people demanded.

“We don’t know what happened. For now go back to your homes, and we’ll have a town meeting when we know more,” Rye called out over the crowd.

“Home? My niece was on that train with her son! I’m not going anywhere until the bastard who did this is dead!” a man snarled, lunging towards them.

A gunshot went off into the sky, and everyone pulled back, scrambling away. Parker was standing there looking every inch the gunslinger he used to be, and Rye wanted to bless his soul for being quick and decisive in tough situations.

“The Sheriff and I will figure out what happened. We are _not_ killing this kid without an answer, now head on home unless you want to eat my gun,” Parker growled.

Rye had to hold back on rolling his eyes. Parker had a tendency to be over theatrical when he was nervous, but he didn’t mind. Still, threatening the entire town with getting shot was maybe a bit much, but if it was working –

“Well, you heard the man! Go home or get your face blown off – take your pick,” Rye said. No use backing down now. People scowled, but started to turn away, and head off towards safety. Once most of the rabble was gone, Rye turned to give Parker a look. The man was already looking away, a small, embarrassed grimace on his face.

“Sorry, I panicked,” Parker said.

“Mhm. Help me get this kid pack to the jail. It’s going to be a long night,” Rye said.

The jail was small, as they lived in a small town, and thankfully they hadn’t needed to use it very often. Rye sent Parker off to see if the Doctor was awake, and then set about cleaning the blood off the kid while he tried to coax some words out of him.

“You got a name?” Rye asked.

The young man didn’t respond,just continued to stare off into the distance, mumbling about red-eyes.

“Right. Do you know where you are?” Rye asked, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes, and smearing blood on himself. He scowled at the way his fingers were shaking. The young man’s eyes finally snap to his, and blood started to leak from the corners of them, like tears. The man tilted his head to the right, sniffed the air, and then screamed. 

Screaming was not the right word. No – the sound was like a shockwave of terrible power that reminded Rye of the dynamite accident in the mines a few years back. The walls shook, and he had to clap his hands over his ears, but it’s like the sound was inside his mind, and he could feel blood dripping out of his ears as he tumbled to the ground, writhing in pain as the noise permeated his body, shaking him to his core.

Rye never saw the door open, or heard the gunshot, but he saw the young man fall dead before him, his brains splattered on the jail cell wall behind them. Rye turned to look and saw Parker there with the doctor, his gun drawn and still smoking. The noise stopped along with his heart.

“What was that?!” Parker yelled, his eyes wide with panic.

The doctor rushed over to Rye to check on him. She dabbed at the blood leaking from his ears, and looked him over. His hand had gotten cut, though he couldn’t think of when, and was oozing blood, and she poured some foul liquid on it that burned like fire before wrapping it up.

“You seem alright, though you might want to avoid loud noises for a day or two while your ears heal up,” she said. Rye nodded and allowed her to help him get back up. “Also make sure that you wash your hands,” she ordered.

“I’ve never heard anything like that in my life,” Rye said, wincing at the way his voice cracked.

“I didn’t think a human could make a noise like that,” Parker added.

“They can’t,” Doctor Greenfield said. She was staring at the dead man, her eyes narrowed. She walked around the body, looking for answers. Her calculating eyes took in every detail.

“Do you mind if I take a few samples?” she asked. “I have a friend in Georgeton that might be able to help. She does research into peculiar cases that fit outside the human experience. I’m sure she’d be willing to speak with you about anything she finds,” Doctor Greenfield said.

Georgeton was one of the biggest cities around, and pretty damn far from Waysafe where they were. They’d have the resources that he could only dream of. Rye nodded at her to proceed. He watched as she took a sample of clothes, hair, skin, and blood, as well as a few things that he wasn’t really sure about.

“Thank you Sheriff. I’ll be sure to let you know when she has some results,” the doctor said before leaving the prison.

“Now what?” Parker asked, clapping Rye on the shoulder, making him jump. Parker was kind enough, or at least smart enough not to comment.

“Now we try and figure out what happened, same as before,” Rye said, letting his friend’s hand rest there a moment longer than usual. He felt shaken by what had happened. No human could make that kind of noise, and while Rye had a loose belief in the divine, he didn’t believe in much else. Red-eyed monsters? The thought was ludacris. A train robbery he could believe, or even a serial killer, but some sort of boogy-man? No, he refused to entertain the idea. Not yet anyway.

As they went to exit the jail cell, there was a crowd of the townspeople gathered there.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“The man tried to attack the Sheriff, so I was forced to shoot him. We have more investigating to do, so if you would all please go back to your homes -” Parker started.

“When’s the mayor getting back? He wouldn’t keep us out like this. What are you hiding!” a woman accused.  
  
“Oh for the love of – Nothing! The man was out of his mind from the shock and now he’s dead. What more do you want?” Rye asked, losing the last of his patience.

“We want to see the body!” a man yelled.

“I mean, his brains are splattered on the wall, but if it makes you happy -” Parker mumbled. Two people pushed past them into the jail, and came out a moment later looking angry and confused.

“Well, there are brains on the wall, but there ain’t no body,” one grumbled.

Rye scowled at the surge of panic he felt. Of course there was a body. They had just shot the man. He rushed back into the jail, and sure enough, the body was gone. How? They had been standing in front of the only exit the entire time? The blood was still there, the gore from the gunshot still on the wall. Dead men didn’t just up and walk away, so where was he?

“Parker, take some folks and search the area,” Rye said. Parker nodded, and grabbed a large rifle off the wall. Rye could hear him ordering people around outside, but he barely registered it. His mind was buzzing. It seemed the impossible was happening a lot lately, and he didn’t like it – not one bit. He reached for his own gun, and winced. His hand was still burning, the pain searing up his arm. Hopefully it was just from whatever the doc had poured on it, and it wasn’t infected. He grabbed his gun, and headed out for his horse. It was time to hunt for a dead man.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Williams finds the missing man, and pays a visit to Sheriff Rivers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *note: there is animal death in this chapter*

Williams sat with one hand on his chin, pondering the news he had just heard.

The moon was high, the air was still, and the mansion was empty save for himself. Not a breath stirred within it’s walls now that the informant had left. He frowned as he passed the information over and over through his mind. An entire train filled with people, massacred. Blood drained from their bodies. One raving madman left behind.

Whoever did this was a damned idiot, and Williams did _not_ enjoy dealing with idiots.

In his world, it payed to be stealthy, unnoticed, and hidden. There were many ways to go about being unnoticed, but slaughtering an entire train of people to be discovered with their bodies drained out by local law enforcement was not one of them. He grimaced at the thought. How utterly imbecilic, not to mention uncouth.

He supposed he would have to do something about it, now. It wouldn’t do to have Sheriff Rivers poking his nose into places it didn’t belong, after all. That just meant that he would have to speed up his plans for the man. It forced his hand sooner than he’d wanted. The entire thing was a royal pain in his ass. He’d spent centuries hiding, laying low, picking off people here and there and building up a secret empire in the shadows, and he wasn’t about to see it all come crashing down because of some miscreant that didn’t know how to play the game.

 _Fuck_.

He got up from his chair and stretched out his legs, thinking through his first order of business. Right now, he had a mess to clean up and it started with the man who had escaped from the jail cell. No doubt the son of a bitch was confused, scared, angry, and most unfortunately, _stupid_.

He let his body dissipate, fading into a mist that filled the large hall, and felt his consciousness become fuzzy. He was only half aware, in this form, operating more on feelings and intuition than on thought. He slid out of the mansion like a breeze, floating and stirring and restless. Soon he would have himself spread out across the entire area, the city, and be in tune with every human he came across.

People in the city still out and about in the night air would remark that it was strangely foggy tonight, as it was on occasion. He would hear their voices and feel their breath as he whirled around them, an immense consciousness that was ever seeing, probing, moving. He would whirl around the people and feel their essence as it touched him, and they would never be any the wiser.

  
  


  
The animals, too, would give him flashes of their memories, their perceptions, their experiences. Here, a bird had seen something, there a rabbit had had a terrible fright as something large and foul smelling had passed by. He followed each proverbial footstep, looking for the man. He finally found him several miles out of town, huddled on the ground, shaking and rocking on his heels.

Williams drew into himself, feeling himself solidify and withdraw from the mazes of land over which he was spread. His body coalesced, and he stood next to the sobbing man on the ground, making a soft shushing noise as he approached. Carefully he placed a hand on the man’s back.

The man flinched and looked up at him, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. Everything about him was feral. He snarled at him, baring two brand new, sharp fangs.

“There, there.” William’s soothed, ignoring the display of viciousness entirely. He knelt down next to him, and grasped him with his hands on his shoulders. “Poor thing… your Master abandoned you.” Although he spoke calming and softly, when the man tried to pull away from him he held him steady, not letting him back away from him.

The man looked about ready to attack, but as he gazed into William’s eyes William knew that he would experience a certain amount of lethargy from the hypnotic attributes of his power. Humans and the newly turned alike were susceptible, besides just from looking into him Williams could tell that whatever vampire had made him he hadn’t been especially powerful. Controlling this new babe would be like child’s play.

The man’s expression turned from aggression to shame and fear. He crumpled, giving up the attempt at resistance. Instead his voice became whimpering and needy. “What… what has happened to me?” He begged the question, like a child afraid of the dark. Williams gently rubbed his shoulder.

“You’ve been changed. Who did it?” As he spoke the question he pushed his power forward. He needed an answer from this man, needed to track down the individual responsible for this terrible breach in decorum. The man frowned, and then held his head like he was trying to think but it was too painful.

“I don’t… I don’t remember…” He whined. It was clear that he wanted to cooperate with William’s spell, but his mind had just simply not retained that information and it was distressing him. William’s sighed.

“Mmmn, that is unfortunate.” He might have to rethink how useful this man could be, in that case. Still, no sense being rid of him quite yet. He gently pulled him to his feet by the arm, patting him down and fixing his clothes for him while he stared at him bewilderedly. “I’m sorry that your Master has been so neglectful.” He let his voice soften, dripping honeyed tones and a sympathetic expression in his eyes. The man took him for a godsend.

“Will you… help me?” He sounded relieved, like he had simply expected to die, wasting away here in the country on his own.

Williams nodded. “Yes.” Internally, he was wondering about his options. The man was the sireling of another vampire, which meant that this other vampire would hold sway over him if he showed up. However, he could be useful in drawing him out, or in tracking him by sense of power. And in any event, if he did turn on Williams, he could always easily be disposed of. He made up his mind, then. “Come… let me teach you.”

“Who are you?” The man asked, still sounding uncertain and full of fear. As was to be expected.

“You may call me Williams.” He smiled, a friendly gesture to keep this new acquisition from suspecting any danger on his part. “I am the Lord of this region. Your Master, whoever they are, is trespassing. But you are but a victim, so I will take you in.”

The man looked like he’d just been given the world. Gratitude wetted his eye. “Thank you… Williams.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  
  


  
Williams looked around for a moment before letting his senses zero in on a large rat hidden in some bushes. Employing some amount of spellwork, he compelled it to come towards him, walking slowly and gradually coming to sit obediently at his feet. He picked it up by the scruff and in one quick strike, he ripped it’s throat open with his nails. The man made a startled sound, backing away a little in fright, as Williams held it out towards him.

“The first thing you need is blood. Drink this.” He waited. The man looked like he was about to refuse at first, but he knew that the smell of blood would quickly override his aversions. And it did. The man lunged at it, snatched it from his hands, and was soon gulping down mouthful after mouthful of hot red liquid. The rat stopped kicking sometime after the halfway mark of it’s body being drained. The new vampire didn’t stop until it was utterly spent and lifeless, blood covering his face, even going so far as to swallow chunks of flesh to get every drop.

Williams watched and nodded with approval. “Good. Now, come to me.” He put his hand out again, using the same spell that had drawn in the rat, and the man’s eyes went blank. God, that had been messy… but first feedings generally were. He walked towards him in a daze. Williams smiled as he took his hand, and then wove another spell that had him swooning, tripping into his arms and against his body. “That’s it. Sleep.” Soon the new vampire was comatose, and easily whisked away back to the manor. He’d figure out later how to use him to find the invader.

With that out of the way, it was time to attend to the second order of business. It was time to pay Sheriff Rivers a visit. Seeing as he had already learned something of the truth of what was afoot, it would do little good to try to hide things from him. No, this required some more delicate handling.

  
  


  
The next night, as dusk began to settle, a mist once again swept through town, and then the door to the Sheriff’s office burst open as the mist settled. In walked a man in all black leather, the sound of spurs clinking with each step. Though he wore a holster, it was empty of any gun.

“Sheriff Rivers.” He watched the man stand up, a frown of apprehension and slight annoyance at his brash entrance crossing his features. He looked standoffish, but not yet violent. Still, as most good officers of the law, his hand went to his side. Williams smiled. “I hear you have a murderer on the loose.”

Rivers took the intrusion in stride, leaning back against his desk and eyeing him warily. “And how, might I ask, do you know about what’s been happening tonight, when my own towns folk don’t even know yet?”

Williams gave a slight bow, more of a mockery of the gesture than could be considered strictly polite, and kept walking until he was right in front of the man.

Although Williams hadn’t formally made himself known to Sheriff Rye Rivers until this very moment, but he had been watching him often enough, waiting for the opportune time to introduce himself. Well, the situation was decidedly less than opportune now, but that couldn’t be helped.

“We haven’t met, until now. I’ve been meaning to make your acquaintance one of these days, but when monsters are on the loose, urgency tends to override social norms.” He moved closer to him, so that he was in the man’s space. His smile was thin, tight lipped, not yet revealing his fangs. “And I have heard from some reliable sources that you do, in fact, have a monster on the loose. I can help.”

He watched Rivers as he moved, watched the emotions in his eyes. He could tell that he was intimated by him… and also than he didn’t like the feeling. He knew that Rivers was likely battling with the instinct to back away from him, but Williams had purposefully pinned him against his desk so he had nowhere to back away to. When he spoke, his voice had the sound of forced confidence, the kind that hid the nervous anxiety under it’s surface.

“If Parker blabbered about this, I will wring his scrawny neck,” Rivers said with a huff. “Though I am a might curious about what exactly it is you’ve heard. We barely know what’s happening yet, aside from a train filled with corpses. So, how’s about we both have a seat, and a nice little chat where you tell me what it is you think you know, Mister…?” He looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to give him his name.

“Williams.” He couldn’t help a short huff of laughter. The Sheriff wasn’t especially flappable, it seemed, which was good. It boded well for the coming days, though it certainly meant that he might be more than a little challenging to _handle_. Williams took a seat as directed.

“Well firstly, your victims were drained of all the blood in their bodies. Secondly, your one remaining survivor died, and then ran off post mortem. Not exactly a common occurrence in your world, I would wager.” He leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “You want answers, and I can provide them. But you’re not going to believe what I have to say, not at first.”

He paused for a moment and looked around the room. “And I’m sure you’ll be wanting to know who told me these things, but I’m afraid that’s strictly confidential. However-” He smiled, meeting Rivers eyes again. “You should know that I have had my eyes on the city since well before you took up your post in it.”

He watched him as the Sheriff fidgeted nervously, two fingers moving to stroke and tug at his moustache. A rather endearing little tick, Williams thought. It wasn’t that the Sheriff was especially readable… but Williams was especially good at reading people. He kept a very careful eye on how he held himself as he considered his words.

“Not exactly a common occurrence you say – that’s one way of putting it. Not sure how a dead man manages to get up and walk away,” he grumbled. Then he looked down at his hand, which had a bandage wrapped around it. Williams took a moment to look at it with a slight frown. That was…. A complication, to be certain. He could already tell what had happened just at the strange colours the man’s skin was turning.

“So, tell me, Mr. Williams – what do you suppose is the cause of all this mayhem?” Rivers asked. It seemed that he was, for the moment, willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out. He couldn’t decide if that was impressive or very stupid- possibly both.

“You have a vampire problem.” He said it quite simply, matter of fact. No preamble. “There was at least one vampire on the train. It slaughtered everyone. Your dead man had been infected, and was just waiting to die to turn. _That_ ishow a corpse walks out of here with a bloody hole through it skull.” He had an amused smile playing on his lips as he watched the Sheriff, curious to see his reactions to what would undoubtedly sound like absolute lunacy to him.

“I am interested in finding the vampire that arrived on that train, so I believe that for the time being at least, our business coincides.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rye learns the truth about Williams, and maybe a little something about himself too.

The last thing Rye had been expecting after his long and troubling day was for a mysterious stranger to walk into his office claiming to have the answers to all his problems. Williams was charming, alluring even, but there was also something about him that had Rye feeling like he was in danger just being in the same room. It made him feel on edge, like he should be reaching for his gun. He didn’t, of course. He hadn’t survived that long as Sheriff by making hasty decisions. 

They sat and Williams started to spout nonsense. Vampires? He stared at Williams for a long hard minute before standing up, walking to his desk and grabbing his flask. He opened it up, and took a long pull from it, letting alcohol burn his insides. He should have known. The man was clearly playing with him. He sat back down across from Williams, and took another sip from his flask.

“I suppose I should have expected a fairytale,” he said, sighing. “Pa always told me I was too trusting in folks,” he grumbled. “Vampires. You expect me to believe that they’re real?” he demanded. A part of him shuddered at even considering it. That way lay madness, he was certain of it. To admit to vampires – it was too much. Still, there was something about the calm, casual way the man said it, in how relaxed his body language was that was leaving a small niggling doubt at the back of his mind. Maybe he had bumped his head earlier and this was all an elaborate dream. 

“You got any proof of that nonsense, or do you think it’s fun to waste my time?” he asked, letting out a small snort of laughter. Proof. As if such a thing existed.

Rye startled when Williams let out a little huff of laughter. At first he thought Williams was going to say it was all a big joke.

“You’ll soon find more proof than you’ll know what to do with, Sheriff. As long as the rogue vampire is on the loose, you can expect new victims every few nights. They’ll look the same as the ones from the train, bloodless husks,” Williams said.

Rye’s blood went cold at even the idea of seeing another massacre like the one on the train. He couldn’t believe this though…could he? He was obviously quite serious, or he had the most twisted sense of humour. 

“If you need proof so badly, I can offer it. You might not enjoy the experience though,” the man added, and he smiled, and Rye could swear he saw…now he was sure he had bumped his head. Did Williams have fa – no. No way. A wave of irritation filled him. He got up and stepped up into Williams space this time, and was even more annoyed when the man didn’t seem to react at all. He remained as still as the dead – Rye shook that thought from his head too.

“If you have proof,” he said. “Then I want to see it.”

He had never been one to shy away from the dark, even when it terrified him. Besides, he couldn’t exactly go back to Parker and tell him they had a vampire problem without any proof. He’d be run out of town. He squared his shoulders, and stared at Williams, refusing to back down. Despite his resolve, a part of him was screaming at him to let it be, to look away, move, leave, get away from him. Rye refused to budge. He was the sheriff and it was his job to keep the people safe, and that was what he was going to do. If that meant accepting the existence of vampires…then so be it.

Williams seemed to appraise him, looking at him as if seeing Rye in a new light. He seemed almost pleased even that Rye was being so aggressive about the whole thing. He grinned a little wider then, and there was no denying it. Williams had fangs. Rye felt a shiver of fear mixed with insatiable curiosity run through him. Maybe monsters were real after all. 

“Are you sure you want that?” Williams questioned softly. “If you’re serious, give me your neck, and I’ll take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” He dangled the suggestion for a moment before reaching for Rye’s wrist. “Or, you could just keep an eye on what happens with this.”

Rye’s free hand went to his neck in an almost absent minded gesture, while his gaze turned to watch as Williams took him by the wrist. Cool fingers brushed against his skin, making him shiver. Did he mean the cut on his hand? Was there something wrong with it? A million questions rattled inside his mind, and he took a deep breath to quiet them. Rye bit his lip, debating with himself. He would be a fool to trust this strange man, and yet – he couldn’t help the small spark of curiosity. As a boy he had always gotten into trouble because he couldn’t seem to help himself. As he stood there he could feel his heart beating hard and fast in his chest. He wasn’t sure what Williams would do, but he wanted to know. He licked his lips, and leaned forward, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side.

“I asked for proof, didn’t I?” he said – a challenge. He really felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. He twisted his wrist around in Williams’ grip so he could be the one holding on to him. “So prove it,” he said, biting the last word off with a sharp snap of his teeth. There was fear inside him, and he pushed it down. He wasn’t running – not from Williams and not from the answers he needed to keep folks safe.

There was a slight look of surprise on Williams’ face, there for a mere breath of a moment before it was gone once more. Still, Rye had surprised him, and that somehow felt like a victory. Then Williams let out a deep chuckle, and Rye was wondering if maybe he had been a bit too hasty. No going back now though. Williams grabbed him by the shoulders.

“This will sting a little. Stay still and I won’t harm you,” Williams told him, the only warning he got before his mouth descended on Rye’s throat. He gasped as Williams sank his teeth – no – fangs into his neck, and he felt his knees go weak. He wasn’t shy to violence, or pain, but this was in some ways both and neither of those at the same time. Pleasure coursed through him, of the likes he’d never experienced before. His body was alight with a heady mix of sweet bliss and a stagoring agony that somehow felt so wonderful. He heard a small moan and was shocked when he realized it had come from him. He was lost in it, and all he could hear was the blood rushing through his veins, and a voice singing to him to let go, to give in, to embrace the glorious ecstasy he was feeling. He didn’t know what to do, so he reached out, clinging to Williams’ arms as he fought to remain upright. He let out an embarassing, needy whimper as Williams pulled away, and his mind reeled as he tried to come back into himself, to feel centered in his body. He felt like something had shifted inside him, and it left him panting and shaking and desperate for more.

  
  


  
He looked up at Williams, and he felt like he was only seeing him for the first time. He seemed so bright, even in the lamplight. Rye had to cling to him for a moment longer as he tried to catch his breath, and he felt a spread of embarrassed warmth in his face as he blushed. He was a grown man, acting like some swooning young thing. He pulled himself upright, and tugged at his clothes that felt a little too tight, and tried to ignore the strange warmth pooling deep inside him.

“Well. That was certainly everything you advertised it would be,” Rye said, looking away as he tried to gather his thoughts. “You realize no one will believe me right?” he asked. “So how do you plan that we help each other?”

Williams was still holding onto him, keeping him steady, and he led Rye back over to his desk, and helped him lean against it. Rye’s mind was reeling from the fact that vampires were not only real, but he was conversing with one. He looked at Williams again, and he wondered just how long he had been around. He didn’t look very old, and he was quite handsome. Was he truly a monster? He shook away the questions in his mind that were all demanding his attention. They could wait.

“I propose a joint investigation. I don’t want another vampire, especially one so brash and inept as whomever has recently arrived on my turf, after all. Be my eyes during the day, and I’ll be yours in the night. At sundown we’ll compare notes. I have a few leads already, but I need to look into them a little further. Oh, and one more thing before I leave.” He nodded towards the cut on Rye’s hand “I wasn’t kidding. That’s going to cause some… issues. You’ll want to get it looked at. And possibly doused in holy water if my prognosis is correct.”

Rye frowned at that. He’d have to go visit the church in the morning then, he supposed. He had to admit, his hand didn’t feel right at all, and now he really was worried.

“It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff,” Williams said. Then, as if by some magic, he disappeared into mist. Rye stared at the space where Williams had been just moments before in shock.

“Holy hell, vampires are real -” he stammered, gasping. His hand came up to touch the spot where Williams had bit him, and he hissed at the spike of pain. His body was thrumming, but he needed to go home and sleep more than anything. He had a big problem on his hands, and he’d need to be rested. His mind was reeling with a million questions and fears though, and he wasn’t sure sleep would come so easily. 

He gathered his things, and stumbled his way to his small home a few paces down. He fumbled with his keys, but eventually got his front door unlocked, and slid into the darkness of his abode. He leaned against the door, his body tingling, his skin too tight. He tugged off his clothes, letting them fall wherever they landed as he made his way to his bedroom. He was naked by the time he got there, and thankfully he had left his curtains closed that morning. He fell onto his bed with a groan, and stretched out, trying to ease the strange tension inside himself. His body felt hungry, but not for food, but for touch. He wasn’t one to indulge often in the pleasures of the flesh – especially as the sheriff. There weren’t very many people discreet enough for his tastes. He lay back on his bed and spread his legs, his hand coming up to the bite mark once more. He pressed on it, and hissed, remembering the way it had felt. The euphoria, the pain, the heat in his gut.

His body was almost burning with desire. He had never felt like this before. He could already feel his cock becoming hard. He eased his hands down his chest, across his stomach, and between his legs, giving himself a hard stroke. He moaned, his body singing with gratitude that he was finally touching himself. Ever since Williams had walked in he had felt off. Wrapping his hand around his cock was bringing him back into himself, making him feel right again. 

He let his legs fall apart as far as they would go, and he closed his eyes. He pulled up an old memory of a saloon girl he had once been with when he was younger. Her voluptuous curves, her scented hair, the tight hug of her clothing, and the way her skirt would ride up when she walked across the bar. She had warm brown eyes, nothing like Williams’ dark ones. What colour had they been again? 

His imagination had other ideas however. Soft, warm flesh turned into a cool touch on his wrist. Gentle, sucking kisses became a sharp bite of fangs. Rye let out a small, desperate whine. It had felt so good. Better than any sex he’d had. What would it be like if that lasted longer than those few moments? Teasing touches became a strong grip pushing him down. Rye’s hips rutted up into his touch, his breath coming in short gasps. He wanted – his fingers pressed into the bite mark once more, and a wave of ecstasy filled him, his voice turning into a high pitched whimper. He was so close. His fingers dug into the mark, and he came with a shout, his body shaking as pain and pleasure mixed until he couldn’t tell them apart anymore.

  
  


He came back down, and blushed. Shit. What had he done? He wasn’t like that. He didn’t fancy men, let alone one that could kill him. Oh gods, and he had said he’d work with him. What had he been thinking? The man – no – vampire was probably a murderer too. What was wrong with him? 

Rye was panicking about his sexual fantasy, about his work, about Williams’ very existence, not to mention vampires – the whole thing was so far outside his realm of normal. He lay there panting, thinking about what he could do. He had agreed to work with him, and they’d never had a murder case like that before so he could only assume that if Williams was a murderer he was much more discreet. Gods, he had made a lot of stupid choices that night.

He was all messy now, but he didn’t have the energy to wash. He grabbed a dirty shirt off the floor and wiped himself clean. His hand was stinging again, and he grabbed a candle and lit it. He looked it over, and sure enough it looked infected – or something. There were black lines spreading out like a spider’s web of veins from the injury. Williams had said he’d need holy water. He wondered if the local priest could help. If nothing else he’d be bothering the doctor again. For the moment he decided to lie back and try to sleep. He felt a sudden exhaustion, and he let it pull him under into strange dreams.

* * *

  
Rye had nightmares all night, of glowing eyes and fanged creatures stalking him, and by the time he woke up in the morning he was grateful to see the sun, even if it was giving him a massive headache. He knew he hadn’t had that much to drink the night before but somehow it felt like he had the worst hangover of his life – which was saying something. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, cursing his own stupidity from the night before. Not that he could do much about things now. A part of him still wondered if he had dreamed the entire ordeal, but one touch to his neck told him the truth – vampires were real and he was in league with one. He grimaced to himself and looked down at his hand. The black lines had spread.

First stop would be to the doctor – and maybe then he could check on the dead they had taken off the train. After that he would need to take that train apart, and search it for clues. After all that he’d see the priest. He dressed, and then went out back to his water pump and splashed water on his face, clearing some of the sleep from his mind. He’d have a proper meal and a bath later.

Rye walked the short distance to the Doctor’s office, and went inside. The lights were on, and he shielded his eyes against the brightness. Had they always been that bright? He could hear her humming from deep within, and he followed along the winding hallways, and seemingly endless rooms, passing the dead from the night before, until he found her.

“Morning Doc,” he said. She jumped and spun around, a hand on her chest.

“Sheriff! You startled me,” Doctor Greenfield said.

“Ah, I beg your pardon,” he said. She waved him off with a smile, which faded as she caught sight of his hand.

“Gods, your hand looks awful!” she said, rounding on him. She grabbed his hand and started to turn it about, this way and that. She grabbed a magnifying tool and took a closer look. “I dare say I’ve never seen anything like this before. Here,” she said, pouring something bright red and noxious smelling on his hand. Rye hissed as it touched the wound, and it took all he had not to pull his hand away. “Also when did you get those marks on your neck?” she asked. Rye paled as his other hand came up to cover the mark. He hadn’t thought to cover it with anything. He tugged his collar up and buttoned it, hoping it covered the mark enough.

“Must be a bug bite,” was all he said. Doctor Greenfield eyed him, but said no more on the subject.

“So why are you here Sheriff? I’ve hardly made a dent in examining the bodies yet,” she said.

“I sorta figured that might be the case, but I was hoping maybe you’d found some clue as to who did it?” he asked, leaving out the ‘anyone besides a vampire’ thought that was plaguing him.

“Afraid not. But the day’s still young,” she said, offering him a jaunty smile.

“Then I will stay out of your way, and come back later,” he said. She waved him off again, and went back to the dead.

Rye left the doctor’s office and went to the train. His mind kept returning to his hand, but he wasn’t sure if the local priest would just hand over holy water. He’d look into it after he investigated the train. That needed to be his first priority.

Parker was already there when he arrived, the train still sitting right where it had stopped the night before. There was no one on board now save for him and Parker.

“Morning Sheriff,” Parker said.

“Morning Deputy,” Rye said. “What have you found?” he asked.

“A whole lot of nothing for the most part. Whoever did this didn’t leave much behind – except for this -” Parker said, holding up a small scrap of fabric, torn from a piece of clothing. “It was snagged on a loose nail by the door. Could be from one of the victims, but I suspect that it’s from the murderer,” Parker said. “See – there’s blood on it, and the only bloody person who walked out of here was our missing dead man and he wasn’t dressed in anything that fine. Which is a hell of a statement,” he added.

Rye looked at the fabric – it was high quality, in a soft grey, thin – from a shirt maybe? There were specks of blood on it. He’d take it back and make sure there weren’t any matches amongst the victims, but he had a feeling Parker was right. It probably belonged to the murderer. 

“Good work, Parker,” Rye said. “Now let’s see if we can’t find anything else.” It was going to be a long day.

Rye and Parker worked over the train, combing it for any clue or detail. Rye’s mind kept wandering though: to Williams, to the bite on his neck, and the orgasm he’d had thinking about it all. He blushed everytime he remembered how perfect it had felt having his fangs in him, only to scowl when he realized he wanted to feel it again. There was something about Williams that made him feel weak and just a little needy in a way he never had before. He was still not sure how to process that he was a vampire, or that vampires were even real, but his cock didn’t seem to give two shits about that detail. Hell, it didn’t even seem to care that he was a man either. He could admit to himself that he was attracted to him, and that he had no idea what to do with that information.

All day he kept thinking about Williams, about how he would be seeing him again that night. It was a bit absurd. He felt obsessed. He had never experienced anyone like him before, and some long hidden crevice in his mind where his curiosity and imagination lay was coming to the surface, and he couldn’t stop wondering about him. Where had he come from? How long had he been alive? Had he always been a vampire? He’d probably never ask his questions, but he found himself pondering over them while he worked.

By the time the day ended he was tired, grumpy, and no further ahead on finding out who killed these people aside from their initial clue. He sighed, his hand aching… Right, he was supposed to go get some holy water. He said goodnight to Parker, and then headed over to the local church. When he got there the windows were dark, and he saw there was a note posted on the door. He went up to it, and swore. 

“Well that’s just perfect,” he snarled. The priest had closed up the church for the month because he was away on a pilgrimage. Rye debated breaking in, but then thought better of it. He didn’t need any misfortune in his life, and he didn’t think the Gods would like him breaking into a church. Sure, they probably weren’t real, but he wasn’t willing to take that gamble given how much of a nightmare they were already in. 

Rye went back home, and sat down in his kitchen. He pulled out a glass and a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink. It was stupid, but what he really wanted was for Williams to come knocking, and tell him some good news. He hoped he had more luck with his hunt for clues than he had. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Williams makes some progress

Williams, meanwhile, had spent the night time also gathering intel. He had scoured every inch of the town for disturbances and changes for clues as to where his interloper was hiding. By now, he was sure whomever it was had likely found a house to hole up in, which was a problem for him at present. But that was where his newly turned friend would be a valuable asset, if he could get him cognizant enough to be a spy. But one step at a time.  
  
He’d lured a dog out of the village, gently bringing it back to the manor to coax the sireling to feed. It didn’t take much cajoling before the man had bit into it himself, glutting himself on it to fill his starved belly. Williams had watched with approval before removing the animal from his clutching hands.  
  
“Very good. You’re learning fast.” He smiled. The man’s name, he had learned, was Carson. And he had been unfortunate enough to be on the train when a handful of vampires had attacked. Caron did not remember much about the attack or what his assailants had looked like, but Wiliams could piece together the snippets of memories here and there to get a reasonable picture of the events. There had been a leader, of course, with a few lackeys under him. These vampires had been careful enough to drain all the bodies dry but had probably been caught unawares at the last moment, thus the mishap that allowed Carson to not only survive, but turn.  
  
Pity for them. Good for Williams.  
  
He left Carson locked in the basement of the manor _(“For your own good, of course.”)_ and then went to follow a lead that Carson had unwittingly given him. There was, after all, a scent on him of another vampire, and once he had spent long enough around him to separate it from Carson’s own scent, he could follow the trail. There would be vampires on the prowl tonight, no doubt.  
  
And he was not disappointed. It wasn’t long before he found someone that was not one of his own, perched at the windowsill of a young girl in the dead of the night, clearly trying to gain access via dream spells. Williams rolled his eyes at the rather amateur techniques he demonstrated, and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.  
  
He threw him back against a tree in the shadows, and the younger vampire barely had time to wince before he was in his face. “You’re new around here. And you didn’t come to introduce yourself. That’s very rude.”  
  
The vampire just growled, glaring daggers at him, and spat. “Fuck you.”  
  
Williams ignored it entirely.”No, thank you. I’d rather speak with your Master. Where is he?”  
  
When an answer was not forthcoming, Williams sighed as though very put upon. “Do you know the best thing about being a vampire? It’s very hard to kill us. Do you know the _worst_ thing about being a vampire?” He grinned and leaned in close, and in a second had shoved a clawed hand clean through the vampires chest and embedded the nails into the tree behind him. His other hand had moved to clamp down on his jaw to keep him silent.  
  
 _“It’s very hard to kill us.”_  
  
After he had finished with the sireling, he locked him in a coffin in the basement of his manor as well. Then he retired for the day, ready to confer with Rivers again come sundown. He was rather looking forward to it, wondering what the man would do or say this time to surprise him. As he closed his eyes he thought of what he would like to do to him, if given the chance. He had more than a few wistful ideas.

* * *

  
When sundown arrived, the first thing he did after awakening was to cast out his mind to find Rivers. He found him not in the Sheriff’s office as he had expected, but instead he sensed him in his own home, likely nursing a glass of whiskey. He grinned. Well, gaining access to River’s home would have had to be done sooner or later. So without further ado, he whisked himself over to his front door, lightly rapping his knuckles on the wood. “Anyone home?”

The door opened, revealing a rather frazzled looking Sherrif. Rivers had a haunted look about him, his eyes lingering on Williams like he’d seen a ghost. He stepped aside from the door, backing away to give him room to enter. Williams smiled, pleased that the man was being so cooperative.  
  
“Come on in,” he said. He looked uncomfortable, and Williams had to admit he rather enjoyed making him so. He watched him walk back into the dining room, where there was a host of notes spread out on the table. There wasn’t terribly much to go off of. He had a scrap of fabric, and something jotted down about the cupboard they had found the young man hiding in. There were pictures of the bodies. All of them drained completely of all blood. But Williams already knew that.

“I don’t have a lot for you yet I’m afraid,” Rivers said. As he spoke he seemed to unconsciously rub at the mark on his hand. “Though we did find this,” He picked up the scrap of fabric, and held it out for Williams to look at. “It’s high quality – someone of some wealth… not a worker, fabric’s too thin…not from around here either. No one has the means for anything like that in the Waysafe. They must have travelled on the train from further out. They obviously hopped off before the train got here, which means whoever it is that did this is still out there, and probably not too far either. There’s only a few towns where they could hide – unless they’re in the mountains -” he explained, handing Williams the fabric.

Williams took the fabric from him and turned it over a few times in his hands. Then he brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled of vampire, the same scent that had been on Carson as well as the lackey he’d interrogated. The smell wasn’t immediately apparent anywhere in town, however, which meant that the vampire had gotten somewhere farther away. But this was certainly a helpful clue.  
  
“Well done, Sheriff.” He smiled, turning to his host. Rivers hadn’t even hesitated to invite him into his home, which had surprised Williams… he’d expected at least a little amount of distrust or reluctance before being coaxed into doing what he wanted, but now- well, once you invited a vampire in once, it was almost impossible to revoke the access. It pleased him.  
  
“I found a clue myself as well… our vampire had some sirelings with him. If he hasn’t stopped here, he’s at the very least attempted to seed the city with some of his own. Luckily I caught one before they managed to cause any problems. You’d be welcome to interrogate him if you’d like, though I’ve already gotten a few tidbits of information from him.” He glanced at the wound on Rivers’s hand, frowning for a moment as he noticed it. “And that doesn’t look much better. You should be taking better care.”  
  
He wasn’t sure why he should care if Rivers was subject to infection or not. It was likely already enough to mutate him in unpredictable ways, but Williams found that he didn’t like the idea of Rivers succumbing to sickness because of it. Perhaps he simply had yet to exhaust his interest in the man.

Rivers looked a little surprised at the mention, and glanced down at his hand, frowning. “I don’t suppose you know of a good source for holy water other than the church? The priest is away on a pilgrimage of some sort, and I’m not about to break in. Or another cure perhaps?” he asked. The tips of his fingers closest to the injury were turning dark. He seemed disturbed as he inspected it.  
  
Williams sighed. “I’ll put together something for a spell if your priest is away… but you should consider looking into potential ways to get into your cathedral. Believe me when I say that you will not like the consequences if that infection spreads.” Rivers obviously didn’t understand the danger he was in, or else he would have broken into the church without a second thought. Why did humans always have to let stupid little things like moral qualms get in the way of what needed to be done?

Rivers nodded, as though satisfied with that. After clearing his throat, he spoke again, as though he wanted to get back on topic. “That aside, what did you learn from the interrogation?”  
  
Williams let the subject slide. The wound wasn’t imperative within the next week, so he knew he could set the matter aside for the time being, and focus on the topic at hand. “Yes, the interrogation. I learned a few things. The sireling was not exactly forthcoming, but I know that the master two other sirelings, and that he is in hiding. The last the sireling heard, he was seeking a human host to keep him hidden, so you would do well to investigate if any citizens in this or nearby cities have received any mysterious guests of late. They could very well be enthralled with a spell, or he may have used more mundane means of manipulation.”  
  
After having gone over the basics, he turned his attention back to Rivers himself. He liked that the man apparently trusted him, as much as it made little sense. Rivers would make a good daytime thrall himself, and he liked the possibility. Convince Rivers that he was one of the good vampires, and he could probably convince him to work for him. It was a rather nice idea, especially considering the ways the man reacted to his presence. He stalked closer to him, just to see how he would react this time.

Rivers seemed to get lost in thought for a moment, as Williams drew closer to him. He startled when Williams was mere inches from him, peering at him with bright eyes, and looked surprised. He swallowed, and Williams watched with fascination as a blush coloured his cheeks. Now that was interesting. Williams could hear his heartbeat picking up- was that fear? Or something else? Fascinating. Williams wouldn’t have taken Rivers for the type to behave like a swooning milkmaid, and yet…. Had the single taste of feeding he’d given him affected him _that much?_ And yet he planted his feet firmly and jerked his chin up to look Williams in the eye like a challenge.  
  
“So is personal space not a thing for vampires or…” He trailed off, still gazing back at him. Williams wanted to laugh. Instead he reached out to him to gently tilt his chin up, looking into his eyes. Williams had to be certain not to let his gaze seep into hypnotism, because he wanted to search his true feelings and emotions. He could smell his blood, and if he had been hungrier he might have found it irresistible, especially with just how easy Rivers was making it for him.  
  
“Personal space hmm?” He mused, considering him. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours, Sheriff. You are a rather interesting individual.” He drew his cold fingers over the man’s skin, flushed hot and only rising in temperature. He could see the warring emotions flicker through his eyes, the desire to give in to him fighting the urge to flee. He was shaking. It was delightful.  
  
For a moment, just a moment, he leaned forward, as though he was about to kiss him. Williams certainly wouldn’t discourage such a bold action. But Rivers seemed to catch himself, stopping himself from acting on what he clearly wanted to do. He didn’t pull away from him however, and instead reached up to touch the hand cupping the side of his face. Williams felt his fingers brush his own. Williams watched him intently, taking note of every single minuscule reaction in him.

“You’re probably the only person in the whole damn world who thinks I’m interesting,” Rivers said with a rueful laugh. “I’d tell you what’s going on inside my head, but I’m not even sure myself anymore,” he admitted, his voice going soft.  
  
Well well well…

It was unexpected, but was the man was clearly aroused. He couldn’t help but chuckle, peering into his mind for a brief moment and seeing the flood of images. Things Rivers wondered if he would do… things Rivers wanted him to do.

  
  


  
“I could do so many things to you…” He mused, pondering the connection to the man in front of him. “If I had known you were this easy, I would perhaps have made myself known to you a long time ago, when you first took up your office. Do you realize how much danger you are in right now?” He let his hand leave his chin, trailing down his neck to touch the marks he had made the night before. He moved just an inch closer, intent on backing Rivers up against the wall  
He still halfway expected the man to suddenly attack him, to try to push him away, but he would see just how far he could push him. With River’s heart beating the way it was, and the flush on his face, Williams was sure he could push him quite far indeed. He lowered his eyes for a moment, sinking down his body to check for the telltale signs of an erection tenting his pants. Ah, there it was. He grinned, letting the light of the room glint off of the tips of his fangs.  
  
Rivers’s eyes followed his own, clearly taken by surprise by his own arousal as well. His body shifted a little, and Williams shifted with him, pinning him with his presence. Oh, how he wanted to touch him, to press him into the wall so he could not escape, to feel him against his body. He could tell Rivers wanted it, too. He was shaking like a leaf. Everything in his body language was practically begging him for it. Finally he had his back pressed against the wall entirely. There was no longer any room for him to move.

“Shit,” Rivers swore softly, panting for breath. He tilted his head back for a moment, and closed his eyes. Williams thought for a moment about how to proceed. The man was very clearly out of his depth at the moment… he didn’t smell like a virgin, but from his reactions he couldn’t be extremely experienced either. Williams could work with that. Especially since he needed Rivers’ cooperation for the time being, it was certainly a weakness to take advantage of. Plus, it was rather amusing, and he didn’t mind amusing himself.  
  
He didn’t want to spook him out of whatever mental state he was in currently in, but he also didn’t think that his next action would be rebuffed. Of course he was prepared to be wrong, but… he didn’t think he was.  
  
He let his hand fall down, between his legs, and with one motion pushed his palm up against the man’s erection. Rivers gasped. At the same time he let his body press against his, boxing him in against the wall entirely, and letting his lips settle just next to his earlobe. Putting just enough pressure against his cock that he could feel it, but not _enough_ , he whispered, “Rut, if you want to.”

A small, desperate whimper escaped Rivers then, and for a brief moment Williams didn’t know what the man would do… but then, he started to move, his lips surging forward to press his cock into the palm of his hand. He let out a small, breathy whine. His face was bright red, and he was clearly embarrassed, but he didn’t stop. Williams couldn’t have torn his eyes away from him if he’d tried.

“Please… I can’t …” Rivers moaned, panting as he rubbed himself again and again against Williams’s hand. He was clearly having some difficulty getting off, and needed a bit of an extra push, but unsure how to voice it. How adorable. Williams really had found a gem in Rivers, he realized.  
  
“Can’t?” He repeated the word slowly, and now his hand started moving, curling around his cock through his pants. “But you _are_ … and so beautifully, I might add.” He gave a small squeeze, just to watch Rivers twitch and hear him moan again. His eyes never left his face. “I would dearly like to see you soil yourself, but if you don’t think you can reach climax like this…” He removed his hand. “I won’t try to force you.”  
  
He straightened himself, eyes looking over Rivers’ form, enjoying the way he looked disheveled and needy. “Unless there was something else you needed from me, I believe our business is concluded for the night?” He knew damn well, of course, what Rivers likely wanted from him now, but he was curious to see if the man was ready to vocalize it or not. It was possible he wasn’t that far gone as of yet, but Williams didn’t mind either way. Now was where the game got truly entertaining.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rye and Williams have more than just a moment together ;)

Rye had no idea what was happening anymore. One moment they were talking business, and the next he was losing his damn head, and Williams was touching him, and it felt so incredible, even if it wasn’t nearly enough. He felt like he was on fire, and completely out of control. It was exhilarating, and terrifying. He had never done anything like this with anyone. He’d had a few romps before becoming Sheriff, but rutting into another man’s hand, and moaning for him like he was? That was new. He couldn’t seem to stop though, and wasn’t sure he’d want to even if he could.

He had been thinking about Williams all day, about his hands, his lips, his…fangs…Gods, there had to be something wrong with him. He had never felt like this before though, about anyone. There was a burning need inside him, and a voice in the back of his mind whispered that only Williams could make it better. Rye could feel his body trembling, his aching cock throbbing between his legs, still trapped in his trousers. He knew he should stop, be professional, be sensible, but Gods, he wanted him. 

Rye could blame his next action on a number of things: the loss of touch, overwhelming lust, the two sips of whiskey. In truth he simply wanted to, was feeling impulsive and a bit wild. He lunged forward, grabbing fists full of Williams’ shirt, and pulled. Williams didn’t seem to move at all, but that was fine. Rye leaned up to meet him, pressing their lips together in a messy semblance of a kiss.

“Now Mr. Williams, I dare say that’s cheating,” Rye panted against his lips as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Letting me get all riled up on my own, and then being all suave and together, leaving me a mess,” he said. He bit his own lip, debating how far he wanted this to go, but he already knew, had known since he had touched himself the night before.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “But I do know I don’t want to stop,” he said. He was trembling all over, afraid he was making a fool of himself, or overstepping. He grabbed Williams’ hand, and looked up at him. He thought about fantasies he’d had when he was younger and had time for such things, of pressing a girl up against the wall, and taking her. He wasn’t a girl, but he didn’t think Williams would care too much about that detail. He could imagine it, being pressed back, his legs around the man’s waist, strong arms holding him up – that was where his mind stopped as he wasn’t quite sure what was supposed to happen after that. Rye drew himself back over to the wall, letting his back hit it. He released Williams’ hand, and tugged at the fly of his trousers, and then pulled his shirt over his head, and stood there, half naked and panting.

“Won’t you help me, Mister Williams?” he asked, fighting back the embarrassment that threatened to overwhelm him. He really wanted Williams to take control of the situation already, because he had no idea what to do anymore. He didn’t know how to flirt, or be seductive.

As Rye dropped his shirt, there were suddenly fingers around his throat. He hadn’t even heard Williams move. He squeezed down lightly, pinning Rye to the wall. Rye’s heart was pounding, his body full of adrenaline, and all he could think was Gods, yes, please, do whatever you want. His Sheriff voice was screaming that he was in danger, but to Rye it was the same high as a gun fight, life or death, and he was _loving_ it. He had never been so hard in his life, even as he fought to hold still, to not let his panic win. 

“I believe you will find that I am not so easily ‘riled up’ as you put it. I know you want me, but I am a dangerous man, Mr. Rivers. The price for playing with me can be quite steep. I play rough, and when I play it is by _my_ rules. If you understand that…” Williams began to pull him downwards, hard, but not without room to let Rye escape if he wanted to he realized. “Get on your knees.”

The command made something inside Rye give way. He panted, catching his breath, and touching his throat with shaking fingers for a moment, marvelling at the way it made him feel. A shiver of want and need travelled down his spine, settling in his groin. He had never been so turned on in his life, his cock straining against his clothing, making a small wet patch from his excitement. He knew he was being stupid – irrisponsible even – but he needed to know where this was going, knew he would regret for the rest of his life if he didn’t find out. He slid his trousers and underwear off, and stared Williams’ in the eye as he allowed his body to be lowered to his knees, never once breaking eye contact. He felt like he had been starving his entire life and suddenly he was being offered a banquet. There was no way he was saying no. Besides, Williams made it sound like a challenge, and Rye never had known when to back down.

He waited for his next instruction, spreading his knees further apart to avoid making the arousal worse, and laying his hands on his naked thighs. He continued to look up at Williams’ face, forcing himself to stay still, and not turn away by giving in to his embarrassment. It didn’t do to run away from what you wanted after all. He was raised to believe you go after the things you want, and despite his better judgement, Rye wanted Williams, and everything he had to offer. The need for more was overwhelming, and he couldn’t stop shaking, wanting to touch, taste, anything. He would wait though. He was still reeling from his display of force, and he was so out of his element, he was grateful that Williams was guiding him on what to do. Someone else making the rules sounded grand to him.

Rye hoped it was dark enough that Williams wouldn’t notice his many scars that he’d accumulated over the years from fights and what not. He wasn’t usually self conscious, but Williams had an air of…he hesitated to say beauty, but it was hard to avoid the word. There was something about him, like he had been sculpted out of marble and brought to life. Rye was reminded of a statue he had seen as a child when he had taken a trip to the big city with his grandfather, of a young man, perfect, eternal, and so beautiful, forever preserved. That was how Williams appeared to him. Rye shivered, and waited – wanting, needing, and full of desire.

Williams released his throat, and made a slow show of undoing his belt, and then his trousers. Every second that passed made Rye more desperate for his next instruction. Finally, Williams’ cock was before him, and he couldn’t help but look at it, perfect as it was. He blushed, wondering if he would want him to suck on it. Rye had never had any experiences sucking a cock, or even touching one outside of his own. He was intimidated, but also excited. He found himself squirming in anticipation.

“Put your mouth on me. I am going to take you, so you will want to get it good and wet,” Williams told him. A hand landed in Rye’s hair, and curled into his locks before pulling him forward, and then tightening.

Rye gasped at the tight hold on his hair, and oh. _Oh._ That felt…it hurt, but somehow in a good way? Like the pain of a long ride, of pushing hard. Rye had never much thought to look at another man’s cock before then, but now that he had one there in front of him, he wasn’t entirely certain what to do with it. He tried to think of what he thought might feel good. He licked his lips, and leaned forward, kissing the tip, and then licking a long stripe down the length of it. It was a bit salty, but otherwise non offensive, and despite his inexperience, he took it into his mouth, suckling at the head. He wondered…just how much _could_ he fit in his mouth at once? He had seen a couple once having sex behind the saloon, and the lady had taken him in until his hips pressed against her nose. He had always wondered what that felt like, and he had the sudden urge to try and find out.

Rye started to ease himself onto Williams cock, being mindful of his teeth. He didn’t get very far before his throat tried to reject the intrusion, and he had to pull back. Dammit, he wanted all of him. He backed off for a moment, drool dripping down his chin. There had to be a way to do it right.

“How do I go deeper? What feels good?” he asked. He doubted he was doing a decent job, and he wanted it to feel good, but he had no idea how. For not the first time that evening he cursed his lack of experience. He stared up at Williams, hoping for guidance, or step by step instructions or anything really. “I want this to feel good for you,” he said with a soft voice, his blush spreading down his body from the blatant honesty, and desire there.

Williams’ hand pulled him back on his cock, and his other hand held him in place, cradling the back of Rye’s head. He could feel his eyes watering, his mind panicking at the force of it

“Shhhhh.” Williams soothed him, stroking his hair encouragingly. “Just hold your breath. I’ll let you up for air when you need it. Give yourself over to me,” he said. Rye breathed through his nose, and relaxed as best he could, fighting his body’s instinct to fight for breath. Williams began to slowly thrust into him, and Rye felt his body shiver as he realized he was using his mouth and throat for his pleasure. He would even pull back when Rye started to gag too much, giving him a moment before thrusting back in. 

“Eventually you’ll be able to do this on your own,” WIlliams said conversationally, as casually as one might comment on the weather, “But for right now all you need to do is let me fuck your throat. Don’t worry… You’ll have plenty of opportunities to practice the art of it.”

Rye did his best to relax, to hand himself over. There was something freeing about the whole experience, of letting someone use him how they wished. He tried to concentrate on breathing, letting his worries fade away into the background. Was this what it was like for everyone? This sense of _relief_ of having someone else take control? He was so used to taking care of everyone else, and here, on his knees, sucking a cock, he felt almost calm – elated even. Williams’ tight grip on him, and his cock easing down his throat was all that was keeping him grounded. His eyes were watering, but all he wanted was to watch Williams’ face, and take in each small, minute change in expression. The slight uptick in his breathing made Rye’s heart race. Was he feeling good? Did he like it? Was he doing a good job?? 

One of Wiliams’ thrusts was particularly deep, and it hit Rye hard, making him moan even as he choked. He was allowed one deep breath before he was pulled back down, and without thought he found himself clinging to Williams’ trouser legs, the fabric twisting between his fingers. Gods, was such brutality meant to be so enjoyable? Soon he lost himself in the rhythm, letting Williams guide him. His body seemed to be falling in with what was happening, and he was able to even suck a little, and swirl his tongue about. It was messy, and sloppy, and drool ran down his chin. All he could do was hang on, as his face was fucked.

Rye wasn’t sure how long he had him on his knees, as he lost himself to the sensations. Before he knew it though Williams was sliding out and lifting him back up, only to shove him face first into the wall, pinning him there with his incredible strength.

  
  


  
“That was a lovely start, Mr. Rivers. I particularly enjoyed seeing you gag on my cock.” Williams let his lips trail over the shell of his ear as he whispered, “But let’s get to the main event, shall we? I’ll see how many sounds I can make you make for me before the night is out.” One hand curled around Rivers’ face, fingers pressing against his lips. “Get these wet for me, if you don’t want this to hurt.”

There was no hesitation as Rye sucked Williams’ fingers into his mouth, whining around the digits as he tried not to think too hard about what was to come. He wished he was the other way around, so he could see him, see his face, but perhaps it was easier this way? He had never considered what sex between two men was like – had never dared dream of such a thing. His knees were threatening to give out on him, his entire being shaking. 

Williams pulled his fingers free, and Rye couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped him. He wanted to ask to see, but held his tongue, wiggling back as best he could in encouragement. He was terrified it would hurt – another part of him hoped it would. He wanted to be dragged out of his mind, away from being a sheriff, and having to look after an entire town, and chasing killers… even if it was just a moment.  
  
“Good boy…” Williams murmured, right before he pulled his fingers away from Rye’s’ lips and slid his hand down his backside. He wasted no time in pressing them against his entrance, slowly but firmly pushing into him, sliding two in at once without giving him a chance to pull away. Williams scissored his fingers, working him open, easing his tight entrance. Rye had never felt anything like it.

“There you go…” Williams breathed, letting his breath fall on Rye’s neck. He licked the skin there, slowly, almost a tease. For a moment Rye wondered if he would bite him again. “Just wait till I get my cock in here… You think my fingers are stretching you out? You’re going to be moaning for me like a whore before I’m done.”

Rye had never had anything inside himself there, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t feel a bit odd at first. Soon though his body was humming with pleasure. He wondered what it would feel like to be filled with Williams’ cock, and the thought alone had him moaning with a deep need to find out.

“Oh!” he gasped as Williams crooked his fingers. Pleasure shot through him.. “ _Please –_ ” he began to beg. He wanted more. He wanted – no – needed Williams to fuck him, to take him apart, and break him down until he was nothing more than a moaning, sobbing mess. 

The praise, followed by filthy words was doing things for him too. He was tingling all over, his body quivering in anticipation. His tongue against his skin was driving him to distraction, and even so it was hard to avoid the feeling of fingers stretching him, toying with such a strange part of his body. Still, the lingering desire to see him was pulling at his mind. He turned his head as best he could to look at him, his resolve to not ask him crumbling beneath the weight of his desire.

“Can I – can I face you? Please?” he stammered, hoping he wasn’t being too needy in asking. He wasn’t used to wanting things and asking for them. He was either giving orders to get things done at work, or he was ignoring his needs and wants altogether – often because of said work. Rye knew Williams would very likely say no, but he wanted to ask anyway. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment again.

Taking him by the jaw, Williams turned his face towards him, pulling him in for a kiss. It was a rough kiss, exacting and possessive, his tongue forcing it’s way past Rye’s lips with little effort, taking from him his breath as he deepened it. When he broke the kiss he smiled, though it wasn’t exactly a warm look, more smug than anything.  
  
“Not this time. Next time I take you it will be in my bed, and you can face me then,” Williams said. Rye was thrilled at the idea that there would even be a next time. “Now…” he pressed him up against the wall so that he could hardly move, spreading his legs with his knee between them. He felt something hard press against his hole, and Rye had an idea of what was about to happen. “Relax for me.” Williams breathed that instruction at the same time as he pushed in, seemingly intent on taking Rye’s body in one long stroke. It wasn’t fast, but it was smooth and unbroken, sliding in without stopping until he was fully inside of him. 

Rye felt lost in sensation. He was so full, and he found he rather liked it, as strange as it was. He bit his lip, tasting Williams’ flavour on his tongue. He couldn’t even say he was disappointed to be facing the wall, too overcome by the feeling of Williams’ cock buried inside of him. 

“Ah!” he cried out, a small breath of excitement. He had never thought of doing anything like this before, and now he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Rye braced himself against the wall, and breathed into all the feelings, willing his body to relax enough for them both. He keened as Williams shifted ever so slightly, sinking into him even deeper. Gods, it was all so much, and he loved it, even with the slight pain.

It was slow at first, Williams rocking into him, gentle thrusts that grew in intensity and speed. Soon he was pounding into him, Rye pinned to the wall. Sometimes it was almost too much and he would writhe against his hold, only to be pushed down even harder. After a while Williams’ hands began to wander across his body, across his sides, and up his torso to his nipples. He gave them a pinch. Rye gasped, pleasure shooting through him.

“You’re mine now, Sheriff Rye Rivers.” Williams drew out his full name in between breaths.. “If you think you’ll escape me after this, you are wrong.” He gave both of Rye’s nipples a hard pinch, clamping his fingers on them at the same time that he thrust as deep as he could into his ass.

Rye wailed. He felt dizzy with ecstasy. Williams words should have been worrying, the possessiveness, the familiarity – Rye wanted to drown in those words. He arched his back as Williams toyed with his nipples, tweaking and pinching them until he cried out again, his cock twitching with delight. Rye’s fingers found Williams’, and he brushed over his fingers, tracing the digits with his own.

Rye wondered for a moment what it would be like, to belong to this being, this hungry man who was taking him in such an aggressive manner. Would he be allowed to run away from the town, from being a sheriff? Would he even want that? He had been the youngest sheriff the town had seen since its inception when he first started, and often he felt like it was too much. Would Williams keep him like a pet? The thought was not as frightening as it should have been.

He pushed into William’s touch, begging for more with his body as he failed to form coherent thoughts other than MORE and YES. He tried to move his hips, to match Williams’ thrusts, but it was hard to keep up. One of his legs was slipping, and so he shifted himself, and almost screamed as the angle became even better inside.

“Fuck – yes – yes- _yes-_ ” he chanted over and over, his hands clawing at the wall for purchase to help him stay in that position. He was getting light headed, barely breathing as he was.Maybe he really was a whore? He was moaning more than anyone he’d ever had the misfortune of walking in on. He was rutting his hips, unable to hold still, little ‘Ah-ah’s escaping him, occasionally punctuated by a high pitched keen, or desperate whimpering.

“I’m so close!” he warned. Rye wasn’t sure if he wanted to come yet, or if he was hoping to make it last longer. Either way, the choice wasn’t going to be his to make if they kept going so hard.

Rye felt a hand snake around his body, and for a moment he thought he meant to stroke his cock for him, when he felt tight fingers clamp down on his balls.  
  
“Beg me.” The instruction fell from his lips even as he continued to fuck into him. “Beg me to let you cum, and I’ll release you.” As if to punctuate the command, he ground his hips deeper into him, making him see stars.

Rye felt like his world was crumbling around him until all that was left was Williams and the brutal pace in which he was being fucked by him. The tight grip on him was painful, his body so close to the edge, to shattering into a million bits of light and energy. His hold on him was keeping him teetering there, unable to go over. 

He wished to say he had pride, that he wasn’t the sort of man to beg for release, but oh – he was so weak. Williams was fucking him even harder, each thrust knocking the breath from him until he was dizzy and faint with need. Rye was so desperate, his body singing as Williams played him like a finely tuned instrument. 

“Please -” he gasped. It took him a long moment to find the words, so lost in the pleasure it was hard to think. “Let me cum,” he pleaded. He turned his head as best he could, trying to see Williams through his tear filled eyes. He was so difficult to read, and Rye wondered if he wasn’t begging hard enough.

“Williams – AH!” he cried out as Williams thrust in deep and hard. Rye bit his lip, trying not cry, trying to keep his mind. “I need you -” he whined. “I need to cum, please, let me,” he begged again. There were so many thoughts swirling in the chaos of his mind, but the one that kept rising to the surface was that he _needed_ Williams’ touch, and words, and cock. It felt like a revelation, a moment of pure clarity.

“I need you,” he said again. There was something more he meant by that, something deeper, much more frightening. Had he been in his right mind he would have balked at the very idea of needing to be claimed so deeply. He had always depended on himself, and yet, in one short evening he felt like his entire being had been unravelled. He nuzzled back against Williams shoulder as best he could. “I _need_ you,” he said for the third time. He hoped his meaning was clear, even as he worried about what that meant.

Williams finally released his balls, his touch turning softer, pulling Rye against him. He rocked into him, filling him deep inside.

“There there… I know. Good boy. You poor thing, starved for touch, starved for guidance. I want you to cum for me, now. Let yourself go. I will give you _everything_ you need.” Williams pushed his nose into Rye’s hair, and it took all he had not to cry. He didn’t know what he meant by that, but he knew what he wanted it to mean. He felt Williams’ words sink into him with as much weight just as his fangs pierced his skin. He arched into his touch, everything dissolving into pleasure as he came with a shout, holding onto any bit of Williams he could reach. He lost himself in the ecstasy of the bite and of being fucked, his body shaking. Fuck, this was all he needed – to feel like this forever. He gave himself over to the sensations in his body, the world fading around him. He had thought nothing could compare to being bit the first time, but this was beyond his comprehension with how incredible it felt. His cock twitched, trying to come again even though he was spent. He fell back against Williams, his legs barely holding him up anymore.

Rye was lowered to the floor, and he stared up at Williams in a daze.

“Lovely view,” Williams said before giving a short bow, like a performer after the play had ended. “My dear Sheriff Rivers, I had no idea you were so…. Cute. Now, I have some instructions for you for when you wake.” Williams bent over to get closer to him, and reached out to tuck some of Rye’s wayward strands of hair back into place. “Tomorrow, you’ll find a delivery of a coffin waiting for you. Inside will be a vampire chained with silver chains. You can do whatever you need to him to get him to talk… I assure you, he’ll heal no matter how much you do. But you’ll have to wait until sundown, of course. In the meantime, see what you can find about the origins of the cloth. And, one last thing,” He looked down between Rye’s legs, and he followed his gaze. Williams slowly slid his boot heel over his now spent cock. “This is mine now. I don’t want you touching it. You’ll rely on _me_ from now on for release.” 

Rye shivered, and swallowed the small spike of fear and arousal that rule gave him. He nodded, and then watched Williams leave. 

Rye didn’t remember deciding to sleep where he was, so he was surprised when he woke up to morning light pouring through his curtains, blinding him as he lay naked on his floor. He shivered, and then cried out as his body ached all over. What had he – the night before came flooding back into him, and he almost passed out from how embarrassed he felt. He had cried, and moaned like a whore, while being fucked by Williams of all people. He couldn’t even say that he regretted it. He felt a stirring of excitement as he remembered it all. Had he really done that? He stood up, stretching as best he could, groaning at the way his body hurt. He could still feel a phantom touch on him, and it took all his concentration to ignore it and get ready for his day. 

There was dried cum all over him, and on his floor, and he made a mental note to clean that up. First though, he needed to wash. There was a loud knock at his door, and Rye almost walked into a wall he was so surprised. He pulled on his trousers from the day before, and tugged his shirt on too, before answering. 

There was Parker, looking anxious and bouncing up and down on his toes.

“Parker, what are you doing here?” Rye asked. He was sure he looked like shit, but Parker had seen him looking worse he was sure. He absently touched the newest bite mark on his throat, only half listening.

“Wanted to check on you,” Parker said. “I saw a strange man in town last night come over here, and since we have a murderer on the loose I thought I’d make sure you were okay,” he said, looking Rye over. His eyes landed on the bite mark on his neck that he was toying with, and Rye made a hasty cover out of his hand.

“Just a friend visiting from out of town,” Rye lied, trying hard not to blush. He couldn’t quite meet Parker’s eyes though and he could tell the young man didn’t quite believe him. “Any new leads?” he asked, changing the topic before his deputy could ask any questions.

“Well, I checked over the dead, and the material doesn’t match any of them. I was thinking maybe we should take a trip further out? Maybe one of the other towns has seen something? Whoever did this jumped off before the train got here, so maybe they’re out along the tracks,” Parker suggested. “Oh! And I wanted to show you something!” he added.

“Can I get changed first?” Rye asked.

“No time! Doc said it was ‘time sensitive’ – whatever that means,” Parker said.

Rye grimaced. Great, now he’d be walking around all day with dry cum between his legs, and no underwear. He slid his boots on, and grabbed his hat. Washing would have to wait it seemed. It took all he had not to wince at the odd feelings in his lower half. He had to concentrate on walking normally, and not blushing the entire time. By the time they got to the doctor’s office, Rye wanted nothing more than to hide out at home. Still, he was the sheriff, which meant no time for resting.

“Doc! You in here?” Parker called out.

“Ah, Deputy, and the Sheriff – good timing!” she said.

Doctor Greenfield came over and handed them a drawing.

“What do you see?” she asked.

Rye looked at it, and it looked like a bat, and two daggers or swords maybe? He wasn’t sure.

“I found this burned into the skin of three of the dead,” she said. “It was hidden in their hair. A calling card perhaps?” she suggested.

“Or a mark against them…marking them for death?” Parker said.

“Do we think maybe there were specific people being targeted then?” Rye asked, stroking his moustache.

“Could be, and the rest are just to cover it up?” Parker said.

Shit. It was something but he wasn’t sure it was a good something.

“Do you mind if I keep this?” Rye asked, holding on to the drawing.

“Not at all. Oh, and I may have a lead on your cloth,” she added. “Mrs. Jenkins was in to get a poultice and she noticed the sample I had of the material, and she said the only place to get something that fine is to the south. She said it’s how thin it is – most places need warmer clothing by now, and the south is full of rich aristocrats. A trip may be in order,” she said.

“Huh. Thanks Doc. We’ll look into that,” he said. He took the drawing, and headed out with Parker. Maybe the image would mean something to Williams. He had never seen it before. For now he’d wait for the ‘coffin’ he was being sent. He hoped they’d use the back door. The last thing he needed was the town asking questions about his ‘strange visitors’. What he wouldn’t give to let someone else deal with this nonsense.

Rye couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like to not have to deal with a muder case, or being Sheriff at all for that matter. Then his mind would inevitably return to his tryst from the night before, of William’s hands on him, his possessive words of ownership. More than once he was caught daydreaming. He wondered what it would be like to not have to worry about anything other than feeling good. The idea was as delicious as it was forbidden. 

By the time he had finished his work for the day, Rye felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He wanted something he wasn’t allowed to have, and he needed to let the idea go before it made him do something stupid. Williams was a dangerous man – vampire – and he was lucky that nothing bad had happened to him yet. Wanting him was ridiculous. Besides, Rye was pretty sure that this was just a way to pass the time for Williams. He would grow bored of him, and they would be done. He also reminded himself that he knew nothing about him. For all he knew he was worse than the people he was chasing down now. Where did he live? Who was he? Rye knew that he needed to know more, but a part of him didn’t want to look. Sometimes ignorance really was bliss and for the moment he was going to keep it that way. 

He forgot that he was going to be receiving a …guest, and almost shouted in surprise when he saw the coffin in his back room, just inside the door. Attached was a cloth that stunk to the high heavens, and a small note, reminding him to take care of his hand. Rye’s heart skipped a beat reading it. He looked at the cloth, and realized it was for his hand. He pressed it to his injury, hissing as it burned, and then wrapped it around so it was completely covered by the cloth. It hurt, but if it worked then he didn’t care. All of his fingers were turning black, and the veins had spread more.

Once Rye had bathed, and had a bite to eat the sun was down. It was time to meet another vampire.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Williams does some eavesdropping.

Williams spent the rest of that night doing investigations of his own. He had managed to draw from the vampire’s lips a name: Charles Peterson. And so he worked on sending out his sirelings on their journeys to scout out neighbouring towns looking for any information they might dig up on the individual. Of course it would help if he had been able to get a destination out of Peterson’s sireling but… well, maybe Rivers would have more success.  
  
Rivers. He smiled to think of the way the man had looked freshly fucked. He was already thinking about what he’d like to do to him next…. He would look rather pretty tied up in ropes, or gagged and milked, or… He had to stop himself. There were more important things to do at the moment. Playtime came after he had taken care of business. He began to prepare a spell that would halt the infection in his new mark’s hand. Wouldn’t do to have Rivers die of it before he’d had all the fun he wanted to have with him. Oh, he could turn him of course but… well, there were things one could do with a human that one couldn’t do with a vampire. And he still needed him to _work_ during the day.  
  
So for the time being at least, he would hold off, and keep him human and alive as long as possible. Which meant fixing the little necrotic infection problem. He busied himself in the manor’s lab, putting together the things he would need to counteract the effects of the infection. The spell was readied with various incantations and elixirs soaked into a cloth wrap. It would hold off the spread of the corrosion for the time being, so that for now they could worry about other things.  
  
He summoned a sireling, who appeared in the doorway within moments of his physic call. The man took a deep bow, folding his arm over his midsection. “You called, Master?” He inquired, with a mild expression. Williams nodded, and handed him the cloth that he had soaked in incantations. It was accompanied by a note that read _‘_ _Take care of that cut.’_  
  
Just a little gift for Rivers.  
  
“Have this as well as the coffin containing the prisoner sent over to the home of Sheriff Rye Rivers. You’ll have to task it to one of the human servants I have in thrall.” He instructed the vampire sireling, telling him where he wanted things and when he wanted them. The man nodded again after listening to his words, and gave another bow. “As you wish, Master.”  
  
Williams sighed, and set about preparing for sleep now that the night was fading fast. If only he dreamed… he thought he might have dreamed of Rivers, of a beautiful and desperate Rivers begging him for mercy or orgasm or whatever he pleased.  
  
———

When night fell again, Williams was on his feet and out of his bed as quickly as he could. He had business to see to, after all, and the nights were short enough to make him want to hurry to see it done. It was earlier than he usually rose, but he wanted to catch Rivers in that dusk period of time before the human would be going to bed… and see how he was doing with the little project he’d sent him.  
  
When he arrived at Sheriff River’s abode, he was a mist on the air, stealthy and invisible. He reformed near the window, peering out of the growing darkness, and heard the voice of the vampire he had gifted to the good Sheriff.  
  
“Let me go you pathetic sack of shit!” The vampire’s voice hissed, and Williams knew that the little interrogation he had arranged was already underway. He smiled to himself as he continued to listen in. Really, he hadn’t needed Rivers to conduct it. He’d have been more than capable of whittling the vampire captive down night after night himself, but he wanted to get Rivers involved, firstly to help the man acclimatize himself to his world, and secondly to see how he would handle it.

“I’ll be asking the questions,” He heard Rivers’s voice, and he grinned. It seemed he was rising to the occasion well.

“Oh please, as if you frighten me.” The vampire retorted, a smug air in his voice. “You’re just a human, and a rather pathetic one at that. You reek of him, of sex.” He continued, and Williams had to stifle the laughter at that. Well, he wasn’t exactly trying to mask or hide his presence. On the contrary, if lesser vampires could smell him on Rivers, so much the better. He wanted them to know exactly who this particular human belonged to.

  
  


  
A few more moments went by in silence before the vampire broke in again. “Oh, so you let him fuck you… _Sheriff?_ Ha! Did you enjoy being his little bitch?” Williams heard the sound of laughter after that cackling and high pitched.  
  
“Shut up!” Rivers’s voice, by contrast, was practically a growl. Well well well… so the vampire captive had struck a nerve.  
  
“Did he hit you? He strikes me as someone who gets off on making people cry. Oh, but he did bite you I see,” As the vampire continued to taunt Rivers, Williams wondered if he should step in. After all, if Rivers couldn’t handle a little provoking, Williams could be there to take the reins again. It was alright if Rivers needed some guidance. He was still new to all of this.  
  
“Stop it,” He heard River’s voice.

“Or what? You’ll suck my dick?” The vampire’s voice taunted him, and Williams snorted to himself. He was about to move to the front door, to crash the little party, when Rivers’s voice roared out.  
  
“I said STOP IT!” There was silence for a long moment after all. Williams frowned. He hadn’t heard a strike, nor any kind of crash or movement within the building. It was as though nothing had occurred at all, but the vampire was shut up. Then there was the sound of a whimper, breathless and whining, and Williams was curious enough to extend his mind, seeking the vampires. He wanted to know what was happening. All he could see from his mind’s exploration, the probing tendrils of consciousness brushing up against the lesser vampire’s, was a feeling of terror, fear, and restriction. The vampire couldn’t move.  
  
Then, all at once, like finally taking a breath of air, the feeling of being trapped was relieved.

“How did you do that?” He heard the vampire say.

“I don’t know -” Rivers sounded shaken, like he himself wasn’t sure what had happened.

“It was like you stopped the blood inside my body, and made it move how you wanted….I…I’ve never felt anything like that…except for my bo-” The vampire stopped mid sentence, and Williams found that to be an intriguing little morsel of information. Rivers was demonstrating an ability from the vampire’s Master? That was strange. Unheard of, even.

“Tell me, where is he? Your boss that is.” Rivers’s voice sounded far away, like he was lost in thought and only going through the motions of the interrogation now. That was understandable. The situation had suddenly become all the more complicated.

“Like I’d tell you.” He heard the sound of something smashing, sudden movement in the building, like Rivers had just moved suddenly. Quick, stomping footsteps.

“You know, there were children on that train. Even a couple of babies. You…you aren’t even human. Our laws don’t apply, which means I can’t arrest you. If you aren’t human, than is it really murder if I kill you?” Rivers sounded furious. Williams smiled. That was interesting… and it was good. He could use that kind of passion, for certain. A few more moments went by in silence, and when Rivers spoke again his voice was low, almost quiet, and sinister. “I wonder, can I kill you from the inside?”

“You wouldn’t dare. You’re supposed to be the good guy-” The vampire’s voice was stammering.

“Good?” Rivers’s voice was downright cruel, and then the vampire started to scream. Williams found himself getting hard just hearing it, imagining what Rivers might be doing to his captive. He hadn’t known how Rivers would take to a task like interrogation, but his anger and his violence…  
  
 _That_ was downright sexy.

The screaming stopped soon after it had begun. Williams wasn’t surprised… he hardly expected Rivers to become a seasoned torturer overnight.  
  
“Tell me something – what do you know about Mr. Williams?” The next question came, and Williams’s ears perked up at that. It was a good question, really. He wondered what the vampire would say.

“Williams?” Came the captive’s response. “He’s cruel, for one. You’re an idiot for getting involved with him, or any of this for that matter. Unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate.” That made Williams snort. The vampire wasn’t wrong. It was a correct reply, all things considered. He was a very, very bad man, and it would be wise of Rivers to avoid him. Unfortunately for Rivers, it was far too late.

“Where can I find him?” Oh ho. So the Sheriff wanted to see if he could locate his lair. Now why ever would he want to do that?

“I don’t know, I didn’t see going in or out. But it’s big – it echoes when he talks. Why are you asking me all this?”

“How hard is it for your kind to die?” Rivers’s next question ignored the vampire’s query.

“ _Very_ hard, and I’m not telling you how either!”

“Did he torture you?” Rivers sounded curious, now. Williams was curious himself of what Rivers was thinking about. There were long pauses between Rivers’s questions, as though he were lost in thought. “And where in the south is your boss hiding?”  
  
“He’s not in the south,” the vampire hissed.

“Oh but I think he is.” There was a shuffling sound. “We also saw the brands too…”  
  
“I’m done talking.”  
  
And Williams was done waiting and lurking. He had observed this little scene play out as much as it could for the evening, and it was time to pull Rivers back in after all of this excitement. He silently walked around to the front door of the building. He didn’t bother knocking. As far as he saw it, Rivers was his and so, therefore, was his abode. And since he had access to the place, he didn’t see any point to standing on ceremony. So, he let himself in. He swept in at first as a mist, blowing through the door on a ghostly breeze before coalescing in the middle of the room. A bit dramatic, really, but he did like to see the reactions on River’s face.  
  
“Hey asshole, why’d you dump me on your pet here?” His attention was immediately waylaid by the sireling. He scowled, not dignifying that with a response. Instead he strolled across the room, and the first thing he did was approach the vampire still chained in the coffin. He didn’t look at Rivers, yet, instead taking his time no matter what squawking the sireling chose to do, to replace the gag nice and tight, pat him on the cheek, and then close the coffin again. Out of sight, out of mind as far as he was concerned.  
  
Then, he turned to face Rivers with a roguish smile. “Did you sleep well? Discover anything of value?” He was glad to note that Rivers was wearing the bandage he’d sent, though he would have to inspect it to be sure the spells were taking.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally get a break in the case and head out on a road trip.

Rye didn’t understand _what_ he had just done. How had he stopped the vampire? He had found himself reaching out with his infected hand, and then the vampire was still, looking afraid – panicked even. He could _feel_ the blood in his body, could feel it bending to his will and his desire to make him stop. He…he was scared. Something was changing in him, something outside of his world. He looked at his hand. Was it from the infection? Had it done something to him?

For a moment he had lost control of himself, wanting to hurt the vampire – kill him even. It wasn’t like he had never killed anyone before, but never like this, with just a squeeze of his hand he could have ended his life. It was as fascinating as it was terrifying. The vampire had said he was supposed to be a ‘good guy’. Rye had never been very good. He tried, of course. He had to as Sheriff, but his instincts were to kill before being killed, and he often had to fight himself on that. It didn’t help, of course, that he was furious about all the deaths either…

Rye’s focus shifted a bit, as his thoughts wandered back to Williams. He hadn’t meant to ask questions about him, but this vampire knew more of his world, maybe even more about him, and Rye wanted to know more. He asked if Williams had tortured him, and wasn’t really surprised that he had. Rye wasn’t exactly in a position to judge. He’d done his fair share of questionable things, and had almost killed the vampire himself. He wondered for a moment if he _should_ be upset and then decided he didn’t care. Williams was helping him, for his own reasons of course, but that was enough for him for the moment. He did wonder though – just how long had Williams been alive. Would he find him in old paintings, or in the newspaper? Would he be mentioned in some obscure book or memoir? He shook his head. He needed to focus. He needed to know where to find the boss.

Rye asked his questions. He knew he had gotten the area right when the vampire looked away, paling ever so slightly. He didn’t hear Williams come in, but suddenly he was there, and Rye felt himself blush as soon as he saw him. He fidgeted where he stood, fighting off a nervous smile. Gods but Williams was handsome. It was so unfair, and far too distracting.

He was pleased when Williams gagged the irritating vampire, and closed the lid on him. Good riddance, he thought.

“Did you sleep well? Discover anything of value?” Williams asked.

It sent a small flutter through him that he was asking after him. Rye smiled, fighting the urge to reach out to him. He really wasn’t used to this.

  
  


  
“Yes, and possibly,” Rye said. “Though next time remind me I own a bed -” he started, laughing nervously as he realized the implications of that statement. He didn’t want to assume there would be a next time, even though Williams had said there would be. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, or seem too eager – even if he was. “Anyway, we’ve figured out that there’s a good chance they’re from the south, though not sure where yet, but probably a bigger city. One of the town’s ladies is a bit of a fashionista, and while she didn’t recognize the specific fabric, she did manage to figure out that it’s too thin to be from anywhere further north than here. Past the mountains it gets cold. Also, have you seen this before?” Rye asked, handing over the drawing from earlier of the bat with the daggers. “It was branded into three of the victims’ heads. Oh, and apparently I have magic powers in my messed up hand,” he added.  
  
Williams frowned at that, took the drawing, and then frowned even more. Rye wondered if he recognized it. He turned it about, taking the image in from various angles.

“I believe I recognize the insignia, but…” he paused, the frown never leaving. Rye wondered what it meant to him, but he didn’t finish his thought. “This is an excellent clue, good work.” He tucked the image away into an inner pocket of his coat. Rye tried not to preen at the praise. Williams reached out, and took his infected hand, and Rye shivered as his cool skin touched his warmer one. Williams lifted the bandage and Rye was surprised by how much better it looked after only a few hours. His fingers were back to their original colour, and the dark veins had almost disappeared entirely.  
  
“What did you say about powers in your hand?” Williams asked, stroking his skin with his fingers. Rye blushed, his mind going blank for a moment before he realized he had been asked a question. Rye launched into the tale.

“Well, the vampire was trying to get under my skin, and saying things, and I got angry, and when I told him to stop he froze! He said it was like I stopped the blood inside his body – making it move? I don’t know what that means, but from the sounds of it, he thought it was similar to something his boss can do?” Rye explained. “I don’t even know how I did it…” he confessed.  
  
He looked up at Williams, and he had a curious look on his face. Rye wondered if it was bad or not, and felt a small twinge of disappointment when he released his hand again. Williams walked over to the coffin, and removed the lid and the gag again.

“What is your master’s power? Come now, don’t try to lie to me or play dumb. What is he infected with?” Williams demanded.  
  
The vampire laughed after snapping his teeth at him. “Why the concern? He’s only a human.”  
  
“Clearly not. If you aren’t afraid of what he can do you should at least be afraid of what I can do,” he said. What did he mean by ‘clearly not’? Was Rye turning into something?  
  
The vampire got sullen at that, refusing to make eye contact. “I’m not tellin-”  
  
Williams cut him off by driving his hand through his stomach, a mass of blood seeping out of him. His scream was truly bloodcurdling, and Rye hoped no one came running to investigate. There would be no explaining this. Williams smiled. “I wonder what it would feel like if I sliced through your internal organs? You don’t really need a kidney, do you?” 

Rye was at once both horrified and fascinated by the level of strength and violence that took, to reach into a man with ease, and touch his insides. Vampires were truly wondrous creatures. He couldn’t imagine being so strong his _bare hand_ could just slice through someone, let alone survive being the one sliced into.  
  
“He can control blood! Fuck!” the vampire screamed. Williams did not yet retract his hand. The vampire coughed, blood on his lips. “It’s something he got from his sire but it hasn’t passed to any of us. He’s always been real disappointed it hasn’t gone into any of his sirelings. But he can control it, tell it to do things, move a person’s body with it. I dunno man, I don’t know why your human pet has it!”  
  
Williams finally took his hand out from inside of the vampire, and wiped it clean on the vampire’s shirt, being careful not to touch the silver chains that held him in place. “Thank you, that was all.” The gag was replaced and he stepped back. He sighed, straightened himself up, and turned to Rye.  
  
“You might find you will be going through some changes in the coming days.”

His eyes pulled away from the chained up vampire. His body had already started to heal as soon as WIlliams’ hand had left him – that was incredible. He looked back over to Williams who was watching him. It took a moment for the words to sink in.

“What kind of changes?” he asked, a small spike of panic hammering into his chest. Was it bad? Would it hurt? A million questions raced through his mind. He looked to Williams for answers. Gods, what had he gotten himself into this time? He could feel himself panicking, even though a small voice said he really didn’t need to.  
  
“Calm down.” Williams said, his voice sure, and commanding. Rye felt himself instantly relaxing, and he wondered if that was William’s power. “It’s a boon, honestly. You heard what the sireling said his master can do? You’ll be able to do that as well, once the power is developed. A combination of the infection and my spell to keep it from killing you. Honestly, usually a human would have to be turned before they would gain such a power from a vampire. You’re a lucky, rare case. Congratulations.” He smiled, and patted him on the head. “I imagine it will be rather handy, in your line of work especially.”

Rye wanted him to touch him more. It was helping him stay calm. He was changing…into what though? He could see how controlling someone would help stop bad people….but what if he couldn’t control it? What if he accidentally hurt someone, or killed someone? Would he end up like the train murderers? Williams had powers too though, didn’t he? It seemed rather obvious with the way his words had forced a calm to enter Rye’s mind. Williams was violent, and probably just as bad…but hadn’t he also been kind, and helpful? Weren’t they trying to stop the bad guys together? If that was the case, then wouldn’t it be fine if Rye had powers? 

Rye wanted to lean into his touch, but he thought it too over eager, and more than a little embarrassing, especially with…company. He scowled at the chained vampire, wishing he was gone. At least then he could relax a little more. As it was, he’d be up all night getting the vampire’s blood off his floor. 

“Right – what’s our next step?” he asked, forcing himself to focus. If he could do his job then he didn’t have to worry about powers or vampires, or anything but a bath, and sleep, and sex- no. He cut the thought off hard. That wasn’t the time or the place. Gods, but he wanted him.  
  
“I want you to look into the name Charles Peterson. See what you can find out. He won’t be from here, he’s probably from south east of here. I’ve already got informants looking into him but if you can work on it during the day we’ll be twice as fast. He might be holed up in a neighboring town. I haven’t found him around here. I want to know anything you find out about him.”  
  
Then he gave Rye a comforting smile, and slid an arm around his shoulders, turning him away from the captive. “I trust you to follow my instructions. You’ve been so very _good_ for me so far….” Rye blushed at the praise, happy to have it. He rarely received praise, and Williams was so quick to give it to him. “Try to put the fears out of your mind. I am here, and there are no monsters stronger than me, I promise you that.” Rye nodded. It was both comforting and a bit frightening to think that Williams was stronger than whoever killed an entire train full of people. He was surprised and pleased by the arm around his shoulders, and allowed himself a small lean into the touch. He basked in the embrace, and his soft words, and assurances. He was so relaxed that his mind was able to work again, and he pulled away, and grabbed Williams by the arms. He knew exactly what would help!

He beamed up at him.

“My office! Parker got in a whole host of wanted posters today from out of town – coming from the south east. He might be on one of them!” Rye almost shouted. “I’ll grab them, and bring them back. I’m sure we can…persuade our friend over there to tell us if he’s on there?” he suggested, already grabbing his keys. “I’ll be right back!” he called out as he dashed over to the jail and office. He opened the door, and Parker was there, half asleep at the desk.

“Boss?” he mumbled. “I wasn’t sleeping, I swear,” he slurred right before falling back to sleep. Rye shook his head, but didn’t worry about it. He grabbed every poster he could find and brought them out, and back over to the house.

Rye dropped the stack of them , handing them one by one to Williams. Some posters had names, but a lot had nicknames. Hopefully one of them produced results.

“Excellent thinking.” He praised him as he began to flip through them, and once more Rye’s heart felt like it would flutter right out of his chest. Williams wandered over to a chair in the room, making himself at home, and sat down, the papers rustling in his hands.  
  
They searched through the posters, one by one. At first it seemed they weren’t going to have any luck, when Williams suddenly smiled. He brightened, a smirk playing on his lips, as he got up to pad over to their captive guest. Once the gag was removed the expletives started, once more.  
  
“You’re not going to fucking find a poster of him you idiot.” The vampire taunted. “He’s not stupid enough to get caught.”  
  
Williams’ grin widened. “No, probably not… you, on the other hand, are.” Rye felt quite pleased with the widening expression of horror on the vampire’s face as he turned the poster around, and he realized what had happened. The man was now face to face with a portrait of himself. “Pretty good likeness, too. Now let’s see… where is this poster from…”  
  
“Fuck you!” The vampire rattled the chains, and Wiliams only laughed and replaced the gag again. He turned to Rye and extended the poster towards him.  
  
“Looks like they were in this city. As good a place to start as any.”

Rye looked at the name on the poster. He knew the city – it was about a week away on horseback, less by train. Of course the train wasn’t exactly up and running thanks to the murders. He ran a hand through his hair. He supposed they could take a carriage, but vampires seemed to be night creatures. How would he get Williams there safely?

“I don’t suppose you have a sunproof mode of transportation, do you?” Rye asked. “Our best bet would have been the train, but we have no one to run it, not to mention it’s still being investigated,” he said with a frustrated sigh.  
  
“Well that is where you will be indispensable, Sheriff.” Williams smiled. “I have a coffin sized box to sleep in during the day; and you will be responsible for it’s transport. You’ll have to use your badge to smuggle me places, if anyone asks to check your cargo. That shouldn’t be any trouble for you, should it?” He set a hand on Rye’s shoulder, his fingers tracing gentle little circles. Rye shivered, and stared up at him. He was sure the desire he felt was clear as day in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’m sure that I can trust you to do this for me.” Rye nodded and thought about what story he could tell, when he realized he had the perfect cover right there in the doctor’s office.

“I’ve got it! I’ll tell them about the train, and that I’m returning the dead loved one of someone important – no one will question that,” Rye said. “Parker can stay here and watch things while we’re gone. I should go tell him. I’ll borrow his wagon too – when do you want to leave?” he asked. In theory they didn’t need to wait, and if he was being honest, the thought of giving those bastards an even bigger head start was making him anxious.

“I can be ready in a few hours if that works?” he added.  
  
“Perfect.” Williams nodded, and there was a pleased look to him. “I will put a few things in order and then you will find another coffin delivered, same as the last.” Williams slipped a hand around Rye’s waist, and drew him in close to him. Rye melted into the touch, unsure of what was about to happen when Williams pressed a kiss to his lips, forceful and invasive but not overly rough this time.  
  
“Be good, and I’ll see you again tomorrow night when I awake.”

Rye stood there, stunned by the kiss, a bit breathless and his lips tingling. He ran the tips of his fingers across them as he watched Williams leave. His guest was still in his house, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he and the coffin would be gone by morning.

Rye put the lid back on the coffin, the vampire glaring daggers at him the entire time. Once he felt like no one was likely to see anything he didn’t want them to, he went out to find Parker.

It was a quick walk to the jail, and Parker was still there, and sound asleep with his head in his arms on the desk. Rye shook his head. He liked Parker, but the man wasn’t too good at night watch. He rapped his knuckles on the desk, Parker jolting awake, looking around with wide, bloodshot eyes.

“Was’at?” Parker demanded before spotting Rye. “Oh, Sheriff, I was uh…just reading a letter?” he tried.

“You know, this doesn’t give me much confidence that you can handle yourself while I’m away. I mean the entire town will be depending on you and -” Rye launched right into it, hoping for a good reaction.

“Wait – you’re leaving? And you’re letting me be in charge??” Parker asked, a smile splitting his face in two. Rye clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“And why not? Who could do a better job than you, Deputy Parker?” Rye said. “Though I am leaving you in a bit of a mess,” he said with an apologetic smile.

“Well damn, Sir! Thank you! I won’t let you down! When are you leaving? For how long?” he asked. “And don’t worry, I will keep working hard on this case, I promise.”

“I know you will. I’m taking one of the dead for further testing,” Rye lied. He felt bad lying to Parker, but he was pretty sure the less he knew about things the safer it would be. “Which reminds me, is it okay if I borrow your wagon for transporting them?” he asked.

“Oh! Uh, sure? I mean I shouldn’t need it,” Parker said with a smile and an easy shrug. This was why Rye liked Parker so much, he wasn’t uptight.

“Thanks. Should only be gone for a few weeks – a month at most I figure,” Rye said, hoping that was true. Not that he didn’t trust Parker, he just didn’t like the idea of the town not having much in the way of protection outside of him if their enemy showed up. Hopefully they would find the vampires, and put a stop to the killings before anyone else got hurt.

“Do I get an assistant Deputy?” Parker asked, looking far too hopeful.

“I suppose you could do that,” Rye said. 

“Good! Now someone else can do night shifts,” Parker said with a snicker.

Rye laughed, before bidding Parker a good night. He went and grabbed his horse, and rode out to Parker’s home, and hitched up the wagon, and brought it back over to his place, hoping to take out some of the preparation for leaving in the morning. Once he was satisfied that he had done all he could, he went up to have a nap, fell onto his hard mattress, and fell into a dream filled with blood, and glowing red eyes.

Rye was right to have gotten the wagon. When he got up the next day, there was the coffin inside of it, ready and waiting to go. Thankfully the wagon had a cover on it – the sun was bright that day – so Williams wouldn’t be getting as hot inside. If vampires even got hot? He really didn’t know anything about vampires, and that was a fact that should have been worrying. Rye had too much to do though, and no time to think about all those little things.

He had a hearty breakfast, and then grabbed a few days worth of clothing, some money he had stashed beneath his mattress, and several days worth of dried food that he hoped wouldn’t go bad while they crossed the wastes. While their town wasn’t too hot, the wastes didn’t have much in the way of shade, or water, or places to stop. He loaded up the wagon, and then got a couple of barrels of collected rain water, and a small tent. There were a few other odds and ends, and within an hour or so he was ready. He hitched up his horse and they headed out of town.

Rye was a little sad that he had to ride alone. Maybe they should have left at night instead? It was too late now though. He rode all day, stopping now and then to eat, and drink, or relieve himself. He let his poor horse stop every few hours to rest. The dirt was hard and dry and dusty out in the wastes, and occasionally it would just crumble beneath them, and his horse would struggle to keep her footing. 

He spent most of the day wondering about Williams, and vampires. More than once his mind wandered to their night together, remembering William’s touch, and how it had felt to be taken. He blushed, and was suddenly grateful that he was alone after all. He could admit, in the solitude and quiet, that he was rather smitten with him. He wondered at that. He had never been so attracted to anyone before. Even as a youth, he’d had little interest in sex, and now he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it. Of course, he had never given himself much space to think about it, if he was being honest with himself. He’d lived a difficult life, and was honestly surprised he had lived to his late twenties. He often hadn’t found much time for himself, or for exploring his own interests and pleasures.

Rye had a few flings in his past, but nothing serious, and nothing remotely close to the intensity of whatever this was with Williams. Just thinking about his touch was making Rye shiver with desire. He thought about that, about himself, and what he _wanted_. He never let himself want things, but maybe just this once he’d think about it. He knew he wanted Williams. That much was obvious. He thought about their time together, and the way Rye had wanted to submit to him, to give in to his every desire, and simply be. His mind had never been so calm and relaxed as when Williams was ordering him about, and using him. It was like every worry had disappeared and all that was left was pleasure. If he could bottle that, and have it every day of his life, he would. He’d spent his entire life feeling like he was on the verge of collapse, but he didn’t have the option to let himself do that, and he often felt like he was only one bad day away from having that option taken from him.

He wondered what it would be like, to hand himself over to Williams, to just say ‘fuck it’ and stop being what everyone else wanted him to be, and just focused on what he wanted him to be. The thought was tempting…. _very_ tempting. Williams was attractive, and charismatic, and had a bit of a dry sense of humour, and didn’t talk to Rye like he was an idiot. He was rough at times, it was true, but it was in a way that Rye was finding he enjoyed. They would have several weeks together most likely, and a part of him hoped he’d get to know him a little more.

By the time the sun began to set, Rye was more than ready to stop for the day. They had made good progress, but it would be another couple of days before they even reached the next small town, let alone where they were going. At least in town they could sleep in a bed maybe. Rye spotted an old, dead tree out in the wastes, and he headed there to set up camp. 

The temperature was dropping now that the sun was gone, and Rye decided to gather the few fallen branches from the tree and light a small fire. He set up his tent, and then waited for Williams to be awake again. If he spent that time daydreaming about what could be, no one needed to know.


	9. Chapter 9

Williams spent the rest of the night meeting with his sirelings. Vampires across the city were informed of his departure, and made the arrangements for the transport of his coffin.  
  
“I’m going to be gone for a few weeks, most likely. Rooting out some potential… trouble. In the meantime, I want those here in the city under my command to keep an eye on the Deputy. Don’t let him get too close to _us_ if he starts sniffing around, but don’t impede him if it comes to an altercation with foreign vampires. In fact, aide him if you can, from the shadows”  
  
“Is this on account of the Sheriff being your new protege?” The vampire who was at the top of the social ladder directly under him seemed to bristle a little at the instructions. Williams growled.  
  
“It’s no concern of yours if it is. At the moment, my top priority is not allowing another vampire lord to move in on my territory, and the Sheriff’s office is in cooperation with that goal, whether the Sheriff’s underlings are aware of it or not. Whatever I choose to do with the Sheriff after this all is sorted is my own business. Is that clear?” He advanced on the sireling just a fraction, and the man backed up, cringing away from his ire.  
  
“Of course! It’s no trouble, obviously. Just curious. You been in a good mood about the whole thing since you revealed yourself to him is all. I’ll make sure everything is arranged for; his deputy will have whatever clues and nudges he needs if he needs em.”  
  
“Good. I hope I don’t have to tell you to make sure everyone keeps a low profile until this is all over.”  
  
“Of course not. What do you take us for?”  
  
Williams nodded, satisfied that his men knew what they were about, and went to sleep with full knowledge that his human servants would take care of his transport.  
  
—————-

When nightfall came again, Williams could sense the change in his environment before he even got out of the coffin. The air was different, the sounds were different, the smells were different. This meant that Rivers had successfully gotten them underway. He took his time leisurely opening the lid to the coffin and sitting up, surveying his surroundings. It had really been some time since he had left the city, and he was curious how much had changed.  
  
There was a fire going, and there was Rivers seated by it. He smiled, walking over to him. “Well done… I take it there were no complications in getting out of town?” He inquired mostly for curiosity’s sake. He could feel the gnawing hunger starting to come on, and knew that he would need to hunt tonight. But for the moment he needed to check in on his human and make sure that nothing was amiss.

Rivers looked up at him and smiled, a somewhat nervous smile, as though he had startled him. “No, no trouble at all. A few town’s folk wondered where I was heading so early, and who was in charge if I was going to be gone long. I feel a bit bad leaving Parker right now with this mess, but he’s smart – he’ll do just fine. I hope the travelling wasn’t too bad for you,” he added. “I admittedly don’t know much about vampires -” He looked sheepish there, and Williams knew he was still likely coming to grips with the shift his mind had had to make to allow for the existence of vampires. Rivers coughed and continued. “So I was a bit worried that the heat wouldn’t be good for you during the day. The wagon has a cover, but that’s not much in the wastes,.”

With the sun down the air was quite cool now, but Williams knew that the wastes could indeed get quite hot in the daytime. If not from his own memories, which were ancient and reached very far back indeed, at least from the reports of humans and the grumbles of the workers. Still, the heat of the day was not a concern, and it made him chuckle that Rivers was so troubled on his behalf.

“I’m almost wondering if we’d be better off travelling at night…the heat is brutal during the day. And I wouldn’t mind the company,” Here he blushed, looked away and then back again. It was quite endearing. “Plus you’re missing all this _great scenery_ ,” he added with a laugh. There wasn’t much to see in any direction, though the sky was even clearer out in the wastes, a billion stars spread out across the inky dark blue of the night sky. Rivers was looking up at them, admiring them, though truly all Williams was admiring was Rivers.  
  
He moved a little closer to him and patted him on the head. “Thank you for your concern, Sheriff. It is light that damages vampires, not heat. The heat from the day does not harm me. As for travelling… I fear that your sleep cycles would be rather undone if we were to travel at night, though I suppose there wouldn’t be much harm in it a few times. I will need to hunt, from time to time, however, so perhaps not every night.”  
  
He looked around at where they were camped and wrinkled his nose for a moment. The idea of hunting down a deer didn’t sit especially well with him; animal blood was never good, not like human blood. But he doubted there were other humans close by, not out here. It would be lucky if there were, but more than likely wild game was all that was on the menu.

“Is everything alright?” Rivers asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

William’s attention snapped back to him, that easy smile returning to his features. “Yes, everything is quite well. Before you retire for the night, would you like to hunt with me? I believe this would be the perfect opportunity to test out your new abilities… train them a little. I need blood, regardless, and you will need meat.”  
  
He moved to stand behind him, pulling him up to his feet with one hand crooked on his elbow. Slowly he took the injured hand in his and inspected it, turning it this way and that, and hummed a little, pleased that it looked like the infection was indeed receding. The spells were working… did that mean the power would grow as the infection diminished? Only one way to find out.

Rivers peered at his own hand as it was unwrapped, straining to see what Williams saw. He flexed his fingers, and didn’t wince in pain, which was a good sign. “Hunting?” He asked, idly. “With my…ability? What do I do?”  
  
Williams smiled and guided him a little ways away from the camp, letting him trail his feet a little. The wide eyed look of confusion but curiosity on his face was truly precious. He led him into a small clearing in the brush, and then began to cast about with his own mental powers for the presence of living things. There was a host of small game around them, hiding about in the fauna. He snagged a rabbit’s mind in an instant, summoning it to come towards him. It approached them, and all the while he had his hands on Rivers’ shoulders, his thumbs making small circles.  
  
“Just… reach out to it, and think about what you’d like it to do. Feel it. It’s like playing an instrument. You can try to pick it up off the ground, or pull it towards you. Anything with blood running through it veins is susceptible to you. Learn to hear the sound of it. Closing your eyes may help you to concentrate”

Rivers seemed flushed from the close contact, and really he was so very very easily flustered which was charming, but he obediently closed his eyes. Reaching out his hand to try and feel the blood inside the rabbit. Soon all that could be heard was the sound of Rye’s steady breathing and heart beat, two chords that made the most beautiful rhythmic music to Williams’s ears.

Rivers stretched his fingers. He seemed deep in thought in hypnotic concentration, and then suddenly his eyes flew open, and the rabbit raced towards them at full speed. It was no time at all before it was sitting on it’s haunches at their feet, panting from the exertion. Williams grinned. A quick study. Though by far the least violent way to utilize his ability… and if he was going to be useful both as a human servant and later as a sireling, he was going to have to be more comfortable taking what he wanted from his targets, being ruthless with them, rather than coaxing them. He put a hand on Rivers’ arm.  
  
“That’s good. But your ability is an offensive one, not a passive one. You can make it run to you… but you can also just use force to grab it. You can also, of course, use it to kill it. Which would be, I reckon, the entire point of hunting, yes?” He leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Kill it.”

Rivers seemed to shudder. Williams wondered if he was being squeamish about the act of killing. Unlikely, considering the rough life of the wastes. Rivers’s hand went out once more, and this time Williams could sense his mind casting about, tentatively searching for purchase, a way to apply pressure. Williams let himself be as plugged into the small life at their feet as Rivers was, and he felt it when the heart suddenly gave way, bursting inside of it’s tiny little rib cage. The rabbit fell over.

“Dammit, I didn’t mean to make it do _that_ ,” Rivers said with a grumble. The rabbit lay dead on the ground, its lifeless eyes staring up at them. “I was trying to stop the flow of blood, not burst the heart,” he explained. “It’s hard to control this ability…to keep it steady and consistent.”  
  
Williams had to grin, laugh even, at the sight of the rabbit, quite dead on the ground now, blood leaking out of it where it had burst. “That’s quite alright, it was your first try. It’s going to be difficult to learn to control for a little bit, that’s why you practice on rodents and not on people, yes?” He reached down to pick the rabbit up by the ears. He made only the briefest of faces at the smell- ugh, _rabbit blood_ , before taking a few gulps from its neck and then setting it down gently next to the fire.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
“We’ll try a few more before you go to bed. That was an excellent start. Try not to use so much power next time… but it’s good you have a feel for what you can do. With your ability, you could burst a living being’s heart, or simply cut off the circulation long enough to make them pass out. You could make their blood turn to knives and stab them from the inside. Or make it rush out of their orifices until they bleed out without ever needing to cut them. There are a great many uses. And all of them can either kill or incapacitate, or simply control. The variance is in how much power you exert, like running is just walking but faster.”

There was another rabbit not too far away, and Rye set into the task of practice once again. With outstretched and and eyes closed, Williams watched as he beckoned it closer, and then just made the blood stop flowing altogether. Williams could sense that it’s stasis was being held long enough to make the heart stop on it’s own, a peaceful and serene death, and then Rivers released it with his power and got up to pick it up by the ears.

Rivers managed to catch and kill three more, while trying out different applications of the ability. Williams was pleased with how Rivers was taking to the abilities. Williams felt a swell of pride at his natural aptitude. He gave him encouragement, and tips, after each one, and was glad that there was little squeamishness in him. Hopefully if he got used to using this ability on rabbits and other animals, when the time came to use it against humans he wouldn’t balk. While on the whole he was still using very gentle, less violent methods, the last one he got a little bit flashier, and sliced clean through its throat with its own blood.  
  


Finally, however, he patted his shoulder and gestured to the pile of dead rabbits which would last Rivers for plenty of days of the trip now. “I believe it is time for you to get some shut eye. You’ve been travelling all day and now up for hours at this. I’ll look over the camp while you sleep.” 

Then Rivers did the most endearing thing immaginable. He turned his bleary, sleep deprived eyes on Williams, and leaned in and hugged him.  
  
He hugged him. Williams was accustomed to a lot of human behaviour, but for a human that knew what he was, that knew the danger he posed and the ruthlessness of his actions and attitudes, to simply hug him with all of the innocence of a small child… Williams was taken aback.

“Thanks,” Rivers said, smiling through a yawn.

  
Williams watched him retire for the night, and waited until he was asleep. His breathing even, his body relaxed, peaceful. It truly was remarkable how much Rivers trusted him. To be able to sleep so soundly and restfully with a vampire watching your back was… a feat. Williams chuckled.  
  
Moving fluidly from corporeal to mist, he glided into the tent. He enjoyed for a moment just enveloping Rivers, moving around him, touching ever inch on him, pulling him inside of himself, before he solidified again, kneeling next to his head with a possessive smile. He didn’t _need_ to do what he was about to do… Rivers was already so receptive and responsive to him that he was sure all he had to do was brush a hand over his shoulder to get him swooning into his arms. Still, he was planning on continuing to push him in the near future, and besides which…. Being so vulnerable already made it just that much more _fun_.  
  
Slowly he placed a hand on Rivers’ forehead, muttering low incantations to let him dip into his psyche, looking for the threads relegated to sexual desire. Slowly he rifled through them, rearranging them, grasping the thread for orgasm. He sealed it so that Rivers would not be able to achieve one without _his_ command, breathing his voice into him so that only Williams’ express permission would trigger that release. This meant that he could command him to cum in a second, or he could force him to endure without an orgasm indefinitely if he so chose.  
  
But that wasn’t all he was planning. A simpler thread, the arousal string, he turned over in his mind, and impressed his spells upon it to give it to his control as well. This he didn’t seal; he found it charming to see what would turn Rivers on next, but he did want to be able to trigger it at a whim as well. He carefully drew from his pocket one of the pairs of spurs he wore, clinking it so that the noise of his approach would take up residence in Rivers’ mind associated with sexual arousal and desire. He watched the changes in Rivers’ face, and smirked at the way his erection tented the sleeping bag, and then when he was satisfied, he stood up again. He let the spurs clink as he left, so that Rivers would have dreams of him and that sound, hopefully even wake up with a hard on, but not be able to find release anywhere but his own arms.  
  
He went back to the coffin at daybreak, interested to see what the next night would bring.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rye and Williams have a fun evening together ;)

Rye awoke to his hips humping the air, his body trying to find release from the dream he had been having. Williams had pinned him down, and torn his clothing, and had his delicious way with him, filth spilling from his lips as they traced over the bite marks on his neck. Rye cried out as his hand found his cock, forgetting that he had been forbidden from touching himself by Williams the first time they had fucked. He arched his back, his toes curling as he tried to cum. He was so close, and yet he couldn’t quite get over the edge. He tried, and tried again, desperation making him scream. His cock was painfully hard, throbbing and twitching as it tried, and failed to cum. By the fourth attempt he gave up. Maybe he couldn’t get there because he was so tired? He’d worry about it later. For the moment he needed to get ready for another day of long travel.

He looked down at his body, and the way his cock was still hard, and leaking as it pushed against his trousers. He sighed. It would go down eventually. It would also make getting ready a lot more difficult. He got ready as best as he could. By the time he was done he was irritated beyond reason, but he was also flaccid again, and able to ride out with the wagon once more.

It was another long, and lonesome day, with nothing to see or do except to daydream. Rye hummed to himself, dreaming about a different future – one where he was Williams’ to with as he pleased – and took plenty of breaks for himself and the horse. By the time night time came around he was tired. Even so, he was thrumming with anticipation for when Williams would be awake. He once again set up camp, this time by a small bundle of bushes. He had already eaten a good chunk out of two of the rabbits throughout the day, having had prepared and cooked them all before he left. He pulled out another one, and tore into it. It had been several hours since he had eaten anything, and he was hungry. 

The sun was almost set by the time he finished, so he cleaned up, and then sat and waited for Williams. It wasn’t a long wait. As soon as the sun was down, he heard the creak of the lid of his coffin, and William’s feet hitting the ground. He looked up and smiled at him.

“Good evening,” Rye said.

“And good evening to you. I trust the day was uneventful? Did you sleep well?” 

Williams started walking towards him. Rye heard the _clink, clink, clink_ of his spurs, and it was like his body was on fire, his cock going hard, and tenting out his trousers before he had time to register what was happening. He blushed as he realized that he had somehow become aroused in the space of a few seconds. He squeezed his legs together, placing his hat over his crotch to try and hide his embarrassing hardness. Williams had asked him a question but he couldn’t think outside the pulsing of his cock, the way his shirt was rubbing against his erect nipples, and the needy emptiness begging to be filled again that seemed to be ever present since the first time they fucked. Normally he could ignore it, but this was impossible.

“I – uh…,” Rye tried to answer but all he could do was stare at the long lines of Williams’ body, the way his clothing hugged his form, before landing on his clothed nethers. Rye’s mind was filled with the memory of sucking that cock, and his mouth started to water with renewed desire. He needed to calm down. He wasn’t like this. He needed…he needed?

He looked up at Williams, knowing full well that his desire and need were in full view. He needed Williams. He needed to be fucked. He needed for the terrible emptiness and longing to stop, to be told what to do again. A small whimpering sound escaped him, and he looked away, hoping he hadn’t been heard.  
  
Williams frowned, and came to sit beside him, putting one hand around his waist and the other on his forehead. Rye shivered at the contact. It felt so good, even just that little touch.  
  
“Are you alright? You seem like you’re burning up…. You’re not sick are you?” Williams asked. Rye’s heart skipped a beat at the level of concern in his voice. He found himself leaning into every touch, without any real conscious thought put behind it. Each little graze of his skin felt like a sweet torture. He needed Williams, and he needed him now. Rye was having a hard time forming words though, his need so strong.

“Williams,” he stuttered out his name, turning in the man’s hold on him so he could cling to him for support. “I need -” he tried to explain but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. He was panting, squirming, and trying very hard to keep still, but his hips kept trying to hump the air. His skin was slick with sweat, and it took all he had not to throw himself at Williams.

“I – help -” he tried again. He was drowning in arousal and lust, and the only cure was Williams.  
  
Williams chuckled, his lips near Rye’s neck now. 

“Oh! Are you just a desperate little slut is that it?” he asked. Rye felt a small whimper escape him. Gods, he really was a desperate little slut. He hadn’t realized. Williams didn’t even hesitate from there, sliding his hand down between Rye’s legs to palm his erection, making him moan and squirm.  
  
“You’re a needy little thing… tell me, how did you ever get anything done as Sheriff? Hmm? How were you not on your knees at all times with cocks in your mouth?” He growled a little as he nipped at him, teeth lightly grazing his skin. “Or is that the city’s biggest secret? That you’re really the town slut?”

Rye shook his head in denial. He had never – not even in his dreams – thought about sucking cock until Williams had showed up in life.

“I’ve only sucked your cock,” he whined. “I wanna suck it again,” he cried out as Williams squeezed his aching length through his trousers. “Fuck, maybe I am a slut though,” he said on a breath as he bucked his hips up to meet Williams’ touch.

He shook his head again.

“Only wanna be a slut for you,” he said.  
  
Williams laughed, and there was a pleased look on his face that made Rye feel even hotter inside. “What a darling, good boy you are. The real crime is that I went so long without the pleasure. Very well… You can suck my cock if you like.” Williams said. Rye watched as Williams spread his legs, and it took all he had not to just tear at the man’s trousers. He got onto his knees, and bent over William’s lap so he could access his fly, undoing the front of his trousers, and pulling out his cock. He didn’t hesitate this time, lowering his mouth to take him in as deep as he could go. His ass was in the air, and he knew he was wiggling about, but couldn’t be bothered to care. He already felt better and calmer with Williams’ cock in his mouth. He suckled at it, before he began to bob up and down, pushing himself further each time. The only thing that would make it better is if he could suck cock while being fucked by Williams at the same time.  
  
Rye heard Williams growl a little, and then let out a pleased sigh, his fingers dancing along Rye’s neck. He shivered, thinking of being bitten. That would also be incredible. Soon Williams was thrusting his hips up, his hand grasping Rye by the hair, catching him and keeping him in place for each thrust. “That’s it… my perfect little slut. Only a slut for me… ahh, you can’t help being so needy for me. It was fate that led me to your door, fate that decided you needed this. Fuck, there you go. Suck it down.”

Rye whined around Williams’ cock, sucking as hard as he could as Williams fucked his mouth. Williams’ words echoed in his mind, like a chant of truth. He did need this, he needed to be Williams’ slut. He needed a cock in his mouth, and in his ass. He just needed to be taken care of while being taken apart at the same time. Fate? Perhaps it was. It felt like this was where he was meant to be. He had never wanted the life he’d led up until then. The constant stress and life or death situations, everyone depending on him without any help or comfort. Williams asked for easy things, and then made him feel amazing. As he was forced further and further down, he let his senses open up, the salty taste on his tongue, the smell of Williams’ skin, the sound of the wind in the empty wastes, and the crackling fire. He wanted to memorize it all.  
  
Williams was so wonderful with him, guiding him, urging him deeper, controlling him. It was sweet bliss, being able to let go and just be. Williams was tapping his foot, and Rye’s mind seemed to constantly pick up on the sound of his clinking spurs. He knew that sound would be associated with sex forever, he was sure of it.  
  
Williams’ hand tightened in his hair, pulling at his scalp and making him whimper in pain a little.. “That’s it… I’m going to cum and I want you to swallow every drop, do you understand? If you spill any, I’ll have to punish you… but you’re such a good boy, you won’t spill any will you?” Williams cooed.

  
  


  
Rye nodded. He was desperate to obey, and as Williams came in his mouth, he did all he could to swallow it all, but there was so much, and his head was facing the ground so gravity wasn’t on his side, and he watched with wide eyes as a glob fell to the dirt. Well shit, he thought. He had wanted it all, to be good. He felt a swell of disappointment in himself, at failing such a small task. As he swallowed the last of Williams’ cum, and was let up, he couldn’t help but glare at the offending bit that had escaped him.

Then his mind caught up. Williams had said punishment if he failed. What did that mean? Would it hurt? What would happen? Anxiety warred with the arousal, but then he realized that maybe a punishment was just what he deserved. After all, he had done a lot of suspect things since meeting Williams. He had lied, and left his townsfolk in the middle of a crisis. He didn’t really deserve to feel good, did he? He licked a small stray speck of cum off his lips, and then sat back up, waiting for his punishment. His body was trembling, and despite the fear of what was to come, he was still painfully aroused.  
  
Williams smiled, even as his fingers tightened in Rye’s hair and pulled him up to his knees. “Good boy, you tried so hard…” He mused, leaning close to him to lick a stray drop from the corner of his lips. “But a promise is a promise, wouldn’t you agree Sheriff?” He pulled him forward, quickly bending him over his lap. He manhandled him into position over his lap like an errant child, and Rye could feel his own erection pressing against his thigh.   
  
His hand rested softly on his ass for a moment, making Rye squirm a little. He was about to be spanked, he was certain. He felt heat spreading through his cheeks as he blushed at how embarrassing it all was.

“There, there, it won’t be so bad… and you’re going to get used to it quite quickly, I assure you.” Williams didn’t wait long, before he drew his hand up, and gave his ass a hard slap. It was a slap that had a good amount of power behind it, and he lit into him without mercy. Slap. Slap. Slap. Rye cried out in surprise, panting and moaning, the only sounds besides his backside being hit was his heavy breathing and the clinking of spurs.  
  
Rye hadn’t been spanked since he was a young boy, and he didn’t remember it being so…erotic. Each slap to his ass sent a jolt through him, nudging his aching cock against Williams’ leg. He moaned and cried out, as he tried to endure but his body wasn’t sure if it hurt or if the pain was delicious ecstasy. Perhaps it was both. He wiggled about, a part of him trying to escape the pain and humiliation, while another part of him reveled in it. The loss of control, being treated so roughly, the incredible arousal building in his gut. He couldn’t take it.

He could no longer tell what was up and what was down, he felt so disoriented by the warring sensations in his body. He lay there, and took it, each slap a reminder of his failure. Dammit, he didn’t want to fail, he didn’t want to be bad. He so desperately wanted to be good, to be perfect. Except he wasn’t. He wasn’t a good sheriff, or slut, or person. He clung to Williams’ legs, as tears formed in his eyes. It wasn’t the pain so much as the shame and guilt he felt at not being enough. In that moment he would have given everything and anything to be good at least at this. 

He shook as he took each blow, moaning as his slutty cock continued to leak and twitch with need, never satisfied even with the small gifts he had been given. Yes, he deserved this pain, and he gave himself over to it. He had tried to keep track in his mind, but at some point he had lost himself in the chaos of his thoughts. He had no idea how many he had taken, but he did know travelling was going to hurt the next day.  
  
Williams stopped after some time, and Rye was confused for a moment. Was it over? He massaged Rye’s sore ass, making gentle soothing circles around it, and leaned over him to nip and kiss at his ear.  
  
“Good boy, you took that so well… I think you’re due for a reward now, hmmm? I did tell you, that first night that I had you moaning for me against the wall, that I wanted to see you cum in your pants. I think I’d like to make you do that now… what do you think? Cum for me, Sheriff Rye Rivers. Cum.” Williams whispered the words against his ear, and that was all it took. Rye didn’t have a chance to react, his hips rutted forward once against Williams’ leg, and then he was cumming, his body rocking with the shock of it. Spurt after spurt filled his underwear, and he keened as it went on longer than he had ever gone before, waves of intense bliss filling him. Somehow the best part was Williams’ telling him he was good for taking his punishment. As he came back down from the high, his trousers soaked with his own cum, he lay there panting, curling into Williams’ stomach, and nuzzling in there.

“Gods, the things I would do to be able to just live in your lap like this forever,” he mumbled, his fingers clenching on the fabric of Williams’ shirt. His ass burned, but now it felt like a reminder that he could do it, he could please someone. Even though he had failed, Williams still treated it like a success. Amazing. 

Rye was exhausted, and was half tempted to just fall asleep in Williams’ lap, but that seemed rude. Plus he’d regret that when he went to peel off his soiled clothes in the morning. He sighed and made to sit up.  
  
Williams chuckled as he watched him, carding gentle, if not outright affectionate fingers through Rye’s hair. “You just might be able to, my darling Sheriff, after we’ve got this little job sorted. You do still want to save your town from terrible, mean, _bad_ vampires don’t you? Or have you forgotten all about that in the lap of _this_ terrible mean bad vampire?” He teased him, playfully patting his head.  
  
“Regardless, you do need some sleep… I’m sure that you will be well refreshed in the morning. How much farther are we from our destination?”

Rye wanted to refute that but didn’t. While he hadn’t forgotten about his town, he wished that he could. The pressure was never ending some days, and he hadn’t realized just how exhausted he was from all of it. He sighed, and sat up. Back to reality time.

“We’re about four days out from the nearest town, at which point we might be able to catch a train, which will cut down the travel by at least a week. That being said, the train might be an issue, since I can’t exactly get a ticket for a coffin,” he explained. “If we keep going by wagon, we have a couple of weeks ahead of us,” he added.

He paused for a moment, contemplating if he should share what he was feeling. He had a tendency to be seen as ‘a little too intense’, which was one of the reasons he had remained single for so long, and why he kept to himself so much. People always told him he should be married by now, but no one wanted him…until now. Williams did want him, didn’t he? It seemed so to Rye.

“You know,” he said, needing to say something he had never been allowed to say before. “I never wanted to be Sheriff. I got assigned by the mayor after the last one died because I was good with a gun. I never wanted this life for me…being around you makes me wonder what else there is out there…what else I could be doing. Does it make me a traitor to want to leave all that behind, and just…not do it anymore?” he asked. “It’s silly isn’t it? Here I am, a grown man, complaining about my life to someone who’s probably older than the town itself,” he said, letting out a small, broken laugh.  
  
Williams patted his arm affectionately and shook his head.  
  
“It’s not strange… and once this is over, I can assure you that it is more than possible to leave it all behind. You didn’t think that you’d be getting rid of me so easily did you?” He leaned in close to brush his lips over Rye’s neck, making him shiver. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m afraid I won’t be dissuaded from owning you completely.” He gave Rye’s ass a squeeze too, and Rye almost moaned at the way the residual pain from the spanking made him ache inside. He was then nudged gently towards his tent. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Rest well.”

Rye climbed in, looking back at Williams before climbing inside. He lay down, and his mind was a mass of chaos. Williams wanted to ‘own’ him. What did that mean exactly? He was half tempted to get back up and ask, but he felt a bit embarrassed at how badly he wanted to know, how much he wanted that to mean _something_. He stripped down, and wiped himself clean with his shirt. He’d need to wash his things as soon as they hit a town. Then he got under his covers, and closed his eyes. 

He let himself imagine a different future, one where Williams kept him around, where he was pet and played with every day, and he didn’t need to think outside of sex and pleasing Williams. He had images of kneeling naked before him, and Williams petting his head and telling him how good he was playing through his mind. A small, needy whimper escaped him and Rye had to stop thinking about it or he would never sleep.

He wondered if he was strange, to so desperately want him, to be _owned_ and cared for. He rarely allowed himself to think of his own needs and desires, but he was beginning to realize that in an ideal world he didn’t have to work alone, or carry the weight of an entire town all by himself. Even with his deputy, he had a hard time relinquishing responsibility, because everything came down on him if things went wrong. It had been like that his entire life, and he was so tired. What he needed was to be able to rest. With that thought in mind, he let himself dream of Williams until he drifted off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

“You know, I never wanted to be Sheriff. I got assigned by the mayor after the last one died because I was good with a gun. I never wanted this life for me…being around you makes me wonder what else there is out there…what else I could be doing. Does it make me a traitor to want to leave all that behind, and just…not do it anymore?”

Williams listened to this human man with intent interest; Rivers, it seemed, never failed to surprise him. Well well well… It would be easier than he thought, then, to whisk the man away entirely from his previous life. Not only would Rivers likely not put up a struggle, he would welcome it with open arms. How perfect. He patted his arm affectionately and shook his head.

“It’s not strange… and once this is over, I can assure you that it is more than possible to leave it all behind. You didn’t think that you’d be getting rid of me so easily did you?” He leaned in close to brush his lips over Rivers’ neck. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m afraid I won’t be dissuaded from owning you completely.” He let one hand move down to cop a feel on the man’s ass. He was feeling extremely possessive, and the way that Rivers blushed whenever he did so delighted him. After a few moments however he knew that it was time to send him off. He smiled and prodded him along to retire for the night. “Now, I’ll see you tomorrow night. Rest well.”

Williams then spent the next few weeks on the road amusing himself with tweaking the spells he was working into Rivers, and testing their effects come the next evening. There wasn’t a single night that went by in which he didn’t let himself indulge, seeing how much would be fun (one night he had Rivers practically brain-dead, hypnotized into being a mindless sex zombie) and how much would be more… practical. By the time they’d arrived at their destination, he’d settled on a good amount of hypnosis that would keep Rivers aching for him, but not so aroused that he couldn’t think. It had taken a lot of testing and playing with it to hit that correct balance, and Williams was really rather proud of his work. Rivers had yet to catch on that it was physically impossible for him to cum without command yet, but he didn’t think he’d mind even if he figured it out. Well, it didn’t strictly matter if he did mind; it was far too late now to do anything about the hold Williams had on him.

Williams had even started adjusting Rivers sleeping habits, letting them travel during the night a little more so that Rivers would become used to being up during the evening instead of the day. Bit by bit… though, of course, it would mean Rivers would have to get used to daytime habits once they reached their destination.

He also began planning. If Rivers wasn’t long for the position of Sheriff, he would need to have control of the person who would take it up next. Parker, he believed, was the Deputy. He would need to get Rivers to get a bit of a hold on _him_ just to keep the flow of business on his side. But that was all future plans. For now he reassured Rivers every night that he would have a place with him when this was over and done with, that he would ‘rescue’ him from his stressful life, that he could be nothing but his perfect obedient pet if he wanted to be, though he didn’t yet bring up turning. He wove fantasies for him of living in constant sexual bliss, and more practical pictures of romance and travel and excitement. He helped him learn how to use his magic, coaching him a little more every night.

By the time they arrived, he was eager to get on with it. It was time to put the sex games aside, just for the moment, and focus on getting rid of his problem guests, so that he could move on from this whole business and focus on the much more interesting matter of how to integrate Rivers into his world. He dared even say, to himself at least, that he was rather smitten with the sweet Sheriff.

It was halfway through the night when they arrived. They made their way into town, and Williams kept his mind open, atuned to his surroundings, looking for the vampires that had been causing so much trouble. Rivers tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a stone building where some wanted posters had been posted. Williams looked over with interest, drawing closer.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky?” Rivers said softly. He was touching Williams’ arm, his fingers lingering for a moment, and Williams smiled as he felt it. Rivers had become quite the clingy little puppy on their little journey together, taking every opportunity that presented itself to touch him, and Williams hardly had any inclination to discourage him of this. He welcomed the familiarity of the touch, and wanted to cultivate Rivers’s desire for him.

But work had to come first. He turned to survey the posters, raising a brow as he inspected them. Their vampire hostage was among them, and… _aha_. There he was. The print looked new, the ink fresh, but the name was right. He rapped his knuckle on the paper. “Looks like we’ve got our man… now, the question is, where do we look for him?” He smiled, turning towards Rivers.

“Suppose you could inquire at the local Sheriff’s office for clues? I think that’s a good place to start.” He took down the paper and passed it to Rivers. All he needed was a direction to head in so he could catch the vampire’s scent.

Rivers took the paper from him, and they began to look about. The local Sheriff’s office was just down the road from the looks of things. Once he’d ascertained it’s location, Rivers headed out at a brisk pace, marched into the office towards the office. Williams followed along with him and when he came to the building he discreetly melted into the shadows, watching secretly from out the window, which happened to be conveniently right near the Sheriff’s desk. Sitting there was a tired, and irritated looking older gentleman, who was indeed wearing a Sheriff’s badge.

“May I help you?” the man drawled, looking unimpressed at River’s dishevelled look. His eyes trailed down to the poster in his hand, and he raised a grey, bushy eyebrow at him.

“I dare say you can Sheriff,” Rivers held up the poster as he spoke to him. “I’ve been looking for this man for almost a month now. He murdered a train full of passengers back in Waysafe, and I have reason to believe he’s in your town now. I’d like to catch him before he hurts any more people.”

Williams could tell that Rivers was putting on his serious, all business, Sheriff’s voice for the conversation, and had to smile a little and just how different it was from his demeanour when he was alone with him. This was a different version of the man than the one that begged him for cock every night and told him in confidence how badly he wanted to run away from everything. Williams found himself admiring both versions, that apparently had been existing simultaneously for years. That was something that took a lot of strength.

“And you are?” the old man asked, leaning forward a little. Rivers pulled out his own Sheriff’s badge, and slammed it down on the desk in front of him.

“Sheriff Rivers, from Waysafe, across the wastes. Any information you have would be appreciated,” Rivers informed him.

The man blinked at the badge as if he had never seen one before, then he looked up at Rivers. “A little young aren’t ya?” he asked him, some suspicion in his voice and eyes.

“Can’t be helped. The Mayor appointed me after the last Sheriff died,” Rivers explained. “I wouldn’t have been my first choice, but then I’m not the Mayor.” Williams wanted to chuckle at that. Truly, he wasn’t sure what the Mayor had been thinking, considering the choice was supposed to be vetted by him first, but he was hardly complaining about it now.

“Hmph,” the man huffed. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra set of eyes. We think he’s holed up in an old abandoned mill, but Sheriff -” he said with a serious pause. “I warn you, I sent three men up there and none of them came back. We got a finger from each of them nailed to our door this morning. Unless you’ve got a lot of men with you, I wouldn’t advise going alone,” he said.

Williams rolled his eyes at the dramatics of it all, but he wasn’t surprised to hear his men hadn’t been able to do much. After all, they weren’t up against some random gang leader, but a vampire with supernatural powers. They wouldn’t have stood a chance, even against a lesser vampire like this one, not without knowing what they were fighting.

“I thank you sir, for your assistance, and I will be sure to take your warning seriously. I’ll go confer with my associate, and hopefully we can all work to get these bastards caught. Evening Sheriff,” Rivers said, tipping his hat to the man, and then sauntering out the door. As soon as it closed behind him, his entire demeanour changed again, like he was taking off a mask, and he ran back over to where Williams was lounging against the wall. He gave him a report of the conversation, and Williams didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d eavesdropped on the whole thing, since he seemed so pleased and eager to tell him what he’d learned.

So he listened to Rivers’ report with a growing smile. “Simpleton.” He laughed at the information of the fingers. “A _real_ class act would never have sent back fingers… Mystery can be _much_ more effective than horror. Still, it gives us some insight into the vampire’s character. Rash, violent, aggressive… Probably some low class miscreant that wants to play at being a noble, hence stealing his sire’s seal. Good work Rivers.” He grinned, baring his fangs to the moonlight. “Now let’s snuff him out.”

Williams could have travelled more quickly as mist, but it would have both alerted the enemy to his presence, and he would have had to leave Rivers behind, which he didn’t want to do. Though he was confident he could do this without Rivers at this point, he did want to nurture the man’s killing skills and instincts, and this was the perfect training ground. So he guided him along, and set about tracking. The scent of the vampire got stronger the closer they got, and after a few hours of searching, he knew they were close.

“Alright Rivers, are you ready? Your power will be useful, but it won’t be enough to kill him. For that, you’ll need this.” He handed him a wooden stake. “Use your power to stall his body. Then I will hold him from behind, and you will deliver the finishing blow. Alright?” He smiled sweetly at him in the moonlight, feeling rather fond of this young human he had such ample chance to corrupt.

Rivers took the wooden stake from him, and turned it over in his hands. He looked deep in thought as he gazed at it, and Williams could sense a flicker of apprehension. Rivers had likely never in his life stabbed someone before. Shooting them with a gun, yes, but this… this would be much more personal, more intimate. It was more intimidating of an act to undertake, for anyone. But he didn’t say anything, and instead just nodded, and they carried on.

They climbed a hill up to the mill – an old, dilapidated building that looked like it was one good swift wind from collapsing. There were vampires standing guard outside. Williams gave him a signal, and Rivers, to his delight, didn’t even hesitate- he reached out his hand to call up his power, using the man’s blood to force him to walk off, away from them. The one closest to him followed after him, demanding to know where he was going.

There were still four more, which were much better odds for a fight. Williams was satisfied with that. Rye looked over at him with a look in his eyes that seemed to convey ‘Now what?’, as he likely didn’t have a strong enough grasp on his power to control more than the one of them. The other four would have to be dealt with the old fashioned way, which suited Williams just fine.

“Now we attack.” He whispered, and then rushed into their midst. The place erupted into chaos as soon as their presence was made known. The vampires sneered, jeering and growling at them as they attacked. Rivers followed him into the fray, and he kept an eye out to make certain he was alright. It wouldn’t do, after all, to have his new toy killed so soon, so quickly after deciding to claim him as his own. But to his beaming pride, Rivers was doing remarkable, keeping them at bay with his blood magic, one at a time. It gave time for Williams to really showcase his own abilities as well, and he was quite pleased to show off. He became a dervish of motion, blending seamlessly from mist to form, moving about the landscape at whims and stalling and then clawing at the few lackeys that were around.

It was brutal, but it was quick and effective. Williams didn’t want to waste too much time on them. He called to Rivers here and there, warning him of anyone behind him, and helping him to direct his power in the right ways.

Finally, when he had the opportunity, he grasped the vampire by the neck. “You picked the wrong territory to move into, friend. Now, two things are going to happen. Firstly, you’re going to give me the signet ring you stole from your sire. And then, you’re going to die. If you don’t want it to be extremely painful, you’ll cooperate.”

“The hell I will,” the vampire sneered, baring his fangs. From behind his back he began to draw a sharpened piece of wood- a stake. He had clearly prepared for this eventuality. Before Williams could react however, Rivers had. The vampire in his grasp froze with a horrified look on his face, and Williams turned to see Rivers with his arm outstretched, willing the vampire to stop. There was something frightened in his eyes, like he’d been scared when he’d done it. Scared for Williams?

Then his expression changed to unbridled rage. Williams watched the anger fill his eyes, colour his face. He reached out to him with his mind for impressions of his thoughts, and images rushed across his eyes from the intensity of River’s emotions. This vampire- this _monster,_ had killed countless people, and now he was trying to hurt the one person in the world who made things make sense. Williams left his mind with a stunned impression… that was how Rivers felt about him? Good lord, he was perfect for him. His rage on his behalf made a burst of pleasure curl inside of his chest.

The vampire’s arm suddenly swung back, wrenching it from the socket and dislocating the shoulder. He screamed in pain as his arm fell limp at his side, and he dropped the wooden stake with a clatter.

“Where’s the ring?” Rivers demanded.

“Like I’d tell you,” the vampire said, spitting at him. Rivers flicked his fingers in responce, and the vampire’s other arm snapped back, dislocating that one too. Now he was useless, writhing in Williams’s grasp, and Williams had no intention whatsoever of stepping in. He liked watching Rivers this worked up, this angered and violent, and he liked the fact that a large part of it was some protective instinct to shield himself.

“ _Tell us,”_ Rivers hissed. The vampire shook his head no.

Then his screamed again, a bloodcurdling screech that echoed loudly through the surrounding area, as a loud cracking sound ripped through his body. And then another. The vampire’s form seemed to collapse in on itself, and Williams realized with dawning awe that Rivers was _using his blood to sever his spine_. Williams shuddered, very much enjoying watching Rivers torture the vampire… it bode well for how he would turn out in the future that there was, indeed, such a beast within him. Perfection.

The vampire screamed in agony, his cries filling the night. Rivers didn’t stop. Each bone gave a loud crunch, one after the other, each followed by the most inhuman sounds you could ever hear. And Williams just held the vampire there at his mercy. By the time he got to around his ribs, the vampire was sobbing, begging him to stop.

“Please! I’ll tell you, just stop!” he wept. Rivers stopped, but held his hands up in case the vampire changed his mind.

“It’s in the pocket over my heart,” the vampire wailed. Williams rustled through the man’s clothes and pulled out the ring.

The vampire opened his mouth to say something – possibly beg for his life – but Rivers apparently wasn’t hearing any of it. He pulled out his own stake, the one Williams had given him, and jammed it into the vampire’s heart, baring down as hard as he could, with all his anger and fury, and confusion.

  
  


  
  


He killed him, just like Williams had instructed him. And as the stake went through the vampire’s heart, Williams was so close to Rivers that he could hear _his_ heartbeat racing, and smell the blood in his veins. It made Williams more than a little… _Excited._

Then he was lamplight, and the sound of footsteps that had come running at the horrible screeching sounds of pure agonized death throws that had been echoing through the town. Williams had known this would be coming. It had been factored into his plans for some time now, in fact.

“Sheriff Rivers?” the town’s sheriff called out. Rivers spun on his heel, the light of the lanterns the sheriff and his men were carrying illuminating and exposing him to their eyes. Rivers was covered in blood, and there were at least ten dead vampires lying around him and Williams. Williams could feel his fear, guilt, and shame in that moment. He was afraid. But Williams knew better. Rivers didn’t need ties to his old life, after all. Not for Williams’ plans for him, and not for his own wants either. He himself had expressed a desire to leave it all behind… a clean sever from it was well enough.

“I can explain -” he started.


	12. Chapter 12

Rye had never known such anger in all his life, and driving a stake through that vampire’s heart had given him a terrible rush, and then there was light shining on him. Rye was drenched in blood, the bodies of the fallen vampires surrounding them, and his feelings of victory were replaced by fear.

“I can explain -” he started.

“You killed them?!” one of the sheriff’s men yelled, and it sounded much more accusatory than Rye had hoped it would. He supposed they had wanted them brought in alive after all.

“Boy, you have about five seconds to explain before I arrest you for murder,” the Sheriff growled, raising his gun at him. 

Rye had never felt so scared in all his life, and he looked to Williams for help. What should he do? How was he supposed to explain that he hadn’t killed humans, but vampires? That they would have slaughtered them if Williams hadn’t stepped in? The answer was, of course, obvious. He couldn’t explain that. Rye flicked his fingers, and the Sheriff’s gun was launched away from him as his arms threw it away without the man’s say so.

“Time to go.” Williams growled, sliding an arm around Rye’s waist and seemed to almost lift him, as if he weighed nothing. Then they were moving. Williams rushed the lawman, grabbed him by the throat and then ground him into the dirt, knocking him out. Then they raced into the outskirts of town, taking the long way around so nobody would find them. Despite having done little of the actual running, Rye felt out of breath, his body shaking as he clung to Williams for support.  
  
When they were far enough away from the chaos, they stopped to rest. “Very well done,” Williams praised him, warmly, “Now your city is safe. And so are you.”

Rye was trying not to panic, and the only thing keeping him calm and upright was Williams’ hold on him. He had just ruined his entire life in the space of a few seconds. He’d be wanted now, forever. He’d never be able to explain the truth…not without exposing vampires…exposing Williams. He could never do that. Not to mention he had used his powers on a human – the Sheriff no less! What was he going to do?! He couldn’t go back! He looked at Williams, searching him for answers.

“I can’t go back,” he said softly, despite the overwhelming panic. “Did you mean it….all those things you said to me? Can I really go with you? I have no where, and no one else now,” Rye said, shivering. “I don’t know what came over me, I was just so angry! And he was so smug, and he wasn’t cooperating, and it was so easy to just – and then the Sheriff…” he paused. “What do I do?” he asked at last.

Williams pulled him in close to him in a tender embrace. “Oh, you silly boy… of course I meant all those things I said. I always planned to keep you by my side after this… and isn’t that what you wanted? You didn’t like that job of yours anyways, it put so much pressure on you, it was always so much work and so much responsibility. It was suffocating you.” He spun him around so his back was pressed into Williams’ body and slid his hands over him, one caressing his torso and the other sliding between his legs.  
  
“And you.” He pressed his lips to his neck, making Rye quiver. “Are.” His teeth nipped at his earlobe. “Going.” His hands squeezed. “To feel.” Tongue lathed against sensitive skin. “So good with me.” The sound of spurs.

Rye felt his body heat up at the loving, possessive touches, and he realized what he wanted. Williams was right. He hated being sheriff, hated the stress, and the responsibility. Now he had the perfect out, and Williams? He wanted Rye in a way no one else ever had or could. He leaned into him, falling against his chest. A wave of desire filled him, and his knees felt weak with it. He wanted Williams, wanted him to own him, body and soul. In some ways he wondered if he had lost his mind. Then he realized, it didn’t matter even if he had. He had never felt like this, so whole and complete as when he was with Williams.

“Rye,” Rye said. “No more Rivers….just Rye,” he said. “Make me yours,” he begged, looking up at Williams from where his head rested against his shoulder. “Take me with you. I want to be with you. I need you, and I need this,” he told him, holding any part of him that he could get his hands on.

Williams’ hand wrapped around his throat, and Rye whimpered.

“I’m going to turn you into a vampire.” He breathed in his ear, growling a little and grinding his now very hard cock against his ass. He palmed Rye’s as well, stroking him to full hardness, as his teeth played against his skin. “And you are going to be my personal sireling, my pet, my thrall, to do with as I wish.” His voice was darker now, a note of warning. Rye understood that warning…there was no stopping, no going back. He felt a spike of fear, as well as an overwhelming desire. Yes, yes, yes! That was what he wanted, what he _needed_. No more responsibility, no more fear, just do as he was told, and make Williams feel good. A million thoughts and worries floated through his mind, but the one thought that returned over and over, like a prayer to some unknown God was _do it_.

“Please, do it,” he begged. He closed his eyes. He didn’t know if it would hurt, and he wasn’t even sure he would care even if it did. He relaxed into Williams’ hold, and waited for his entire world to change.

  
  


  
Fangs sank into his neck, and Rye gasped as the pleasure and pain hit at once. It was different from any other time: more intense, and deeper somehow. He was taking more blood, and Rye’s body was caught between fighting death, and the sweet bliss that filled him as he was drained. He cried out, writhing in Williams’ grasp as he got closer and closer to the end. Williams held him through it all, holding him close. Rye could feel his consciousness slipping, and the last thing he heard was Williams whispering to him.

“You’re mine now. You’ll never escape me. Mine, do you understand? Mine for eternity…” 

All he could think was ‘yes’.

Rye came to consciousness slowly, and he didn’t know where he was. The first thing he noticed however was too much all at once. Every sound was loud, too many scents, too much light. There were dripping candelabras everywhere, and he could hear what sounded like a waterfall. Where was Williams? Where was – his mind supplied him with the word – _Master?_ He was shaking, but not from the cold, but from hunger and lust all wrapped up in one. He needed…something. His body was craving something new and unknown.

He pushed himself up from where he was lying and he was flooded with his Master’s scent. He looked about, and lounging in a large, almost throne-like chair was his _creator_. Rye struggled to sit up, his body feeling strange, too much, just like everything else. 

He let out a small sound, and his Master finally looked over at him. Rye had never seen anyone more beautiful. He had always been visually stunning, but somehow he was so much more now. Rye couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Rye didn’t know what to say, and his legs felt weak, so he crawled over to him, waiting for what he wasn’t sure. His Master placed a hand on his head as he drew close, gently stroking fingers through his hair, making Rye relax, and melt into his gentle touch.  
  
“What a good boy I’ve found… really, you’re perfect.” He tilted Rye’s face up towards him to meet his eyes. “How did I find such a perfect thrall? Or, better question, how could I have missed that you were right there under my nose for so long?” His Master watched him for a few moments, and Rye enjoyed basking in his attention. “You’ll be needing to feed. I caught you a rabbit.” He pulled up from his side a live rabbit, holding it by the ears, it’s legs kicking half heartedly in the air. “It doesn’t taste as good as human blood, but we have to make do with what we have for the moment.” 

Rye saw the rabbit in his Master’s hand, could feel the blood pumping through his veins, sending deep pangs of hunger and need through him. He didn’t even kill it before lunging for its throat, tearing into the flesh and drinking deep. Blood rushed over his tongue, and down his throat, hot and sweet. He drank until there was none left to drink, and he held the rabbits limp corpse, looking to his Master for guidance. 

A different kind of hunger filled him then, and he wanted to taste his Master. He wasn’t sure how forward he was allowed to be now, but he couldn’t quite stop himself from nuzzling against his Master’s leg, a low rumble like a cat’s purr escaping him. He looked up at his Master with all the need and desire he felt. He felt so aware of his body now that he was a vampire, which meant he was painfully aware of his arousal. There was so much he wanted to ask, to know, but nothing felt more important than kneeling between his Master’s legs, waiting for permission.

“We’re going to have to change your appearance a little, if you’re to be in hiding from now on…” his Master said. He leaned down to affectionately wipe the blood from Rye’s chin. “Would you like to deal with that first, or would you like to _play_ first? We’re going to be doing both, of course, but since it’s your new birthday I thought I’d let you choose the order of events.”

Rye bit his lip, tasting a bit of blood from his meal that was left behind. He wanted anything and everything. He thought of what would be best, and while he was desperate to have his Master’s hands on him, he thought that he’d rather do business so they could play longer.

“We can -” Rye had to clear his throat. Even speaking felt a bit different. He realized a part of it was having fangs in his mouth. He frowned, his tongue tracing over the points. He continued his sentence a moment later when he remembered that he had stopped in the middle. “We can take care of business first, so we can have lots of time for playing,” he said, smiling happily at his Master. Gods, he felt so free. All he had to worry about was pleasing the man before him. Nothing else mattered anymore. A tiny voice screamed he should be upset, should be scared, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to be. No, he was quite happy with his new lot in life, whatever that was.  
  
His Master grinned. “Very clever of you. Alright then…” He withdrew from his pocket a straight razor, casually twirling it in his fingers. “Come and sit here in front of me, back towards me. I’m going to give you a shave.” He gestured for Rye to sit between his legs, where his head would be at just the right height for him to give him the shave. Rye happily did as he was told, almost jumping to get into position. He turned himself about so he was resting between his Master’s legs, and titled his head back to look at him.

“Like this?” he asked.

He eyed the straight razor, and he knew that probably meant no more moustache. He was a bit sad to lose it, but then he had only grown it as a way to look older to begin with. Besides, if it kept them safe, nothing was too much, was it? He held himself still, and waited.

“Yes, just like that.” His Master busied himself lathering his face. Once he was done, he slowly drew the blade over the mustache, scraping it off of his skin. Rye wondered if it would grow back, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t. Little by little the hair was removed until Rye’s face was clean. Finally he rinsed the cream off, and gently applied the aftershave, massaging it into his skin. “There…” He breathed, “That did not take long. Now. I want you to stand up, and strip for me.”

  
  


  
Rye loved the feel of his Master’s hands on his face, but didn’t want to disobey. He noticed that he was still holding the razor, but didn’t comment on it as he stood up. He took a moment to touch his face, free of hair. He’d have to get used to that. He pulled off his clothes, all of them dirty from their fight earlier, and let them fall to the ground at his feet. He hadn’t felt self conscious when he started, but as he took off more and more layers, he realized that he was getting naked before his Master, and that he wasn’t sure what would happen next.

He took off the last of his clothes, and wanted to cover himself, his arousal obvious. He made himself put his hands behind his back. After all, it wasn’t like his Master would be surprised that he was excited, and he had a feeling he’d want to see anyway. He stood before him, naked, hard, and trying and failing to stop himself from squirming.  
  
“Kneel back down again. Same as you were,” his Master commanded. His hand landed on Rye’s chest as he knelt back down, and he toyed with the hairs there for a moment before he began to lather him in shaving cream, from his chest all the way down.  
  
“You’re already so beautiful, pet, but you’re going to be smooth and soft for me. It will enhance your sensation, and make it all that much more easy for me to play with you… And you want that, don’t you?” He talked as he worked.

Rye nodded, leaning back against his Master’s legs, relaxing beneath his touch, even as it sent sparks of pleasure through him. He spread his legs, wishing he could touch, but there was shaving cream there. Was he going to be shaved there too? Not that it mattered. He wanted things to feel even better. Besides, if it made his Master happy then it made him happy. It would be strange to not have any hair, but then maybe it would feel nice? He felt the blade go across his chest, taking all the hair with it, slow, methodical. By the time his Master was done with his chest he was having a hard time stopping the small moans that were escaping him, his hips making short little thrusts against the air.

He fought to stay still as the razor went lower, his Master’s arms draped around him. It was so hard though when he was surrounded by his scent. Had he always smelled so good? He turned his head to bury his face against his master’s leg, savouring every moment. His Master gently pulled Rye up into his lap when he was done with his chest, guiding him to sit on his legs and to spread his own. He slowly began to finish the shaving with his pubic hair. 

“You’re lovely like this you know… wanton, desperate. I’d like to keep you this way forever. Always just on the brink, always wanting me, a state of perfect submission.” He kissed his neck as he finished the shave and then began to rinse him clean. As he massaged the aftershave into his skin, he let his hands move around his cock, sliding gently up and down and drinking in the noises it made him make.  
  
Then, finally, he moved to whisper directly into his ear. “I’d like to make one more change to your appearance. It’s going to hurt a lot, but you’re going to touch yourself while I do it and it’s going to feel so, so good. Take your cock. Stroke it for me.”


	13. Chapter 13

Williams watched as Rye moved to touch himself, just as he had told him to. He really was so lovely, so compliant. He sighed, a dreamy smile on his face as he watched Rye spread his legs further, arching his back and whimpering for him already. His cock was already hard from the intimacy of the shaving, and he could tell how desperate he had been to touch. He began slow, tentative, and then picked up speed as he went, flicking his wrist and tilting his head back in ecstasy.

Williams licked his lips as he observed him, almost beside himself with the anticipation of the moment. Really, he couldn’t be expected to help himself with a beautiful man like this, naked and willing in his arms, and a blade in his hand. He waited for Rye to get into a rythme, to lose himself to the pleasure, and then he sank the blade into his flesh, drawing a diagonal line along the side of his chest from the side and in towards the centre.

He pushed hard enough that it would undoubtedly hurt…. And it would undoubtedly scar. Both were material purposes for the act. He wanted the feel of Rye’s body writhing, and the sounds of his screams, and the permanent marking of his flesh. Most wounds would heal, for their kind, but this was an enchanted blade, and would leave marks as he desired.

Rye’s piercing screams were a delight to his ears. They were caught beautifully between agony and breathless sensuality, half shriek and half moan. He screamed even as he continued to move his fist up and down on his cock. His free hand clamped down on Williams’s leg, and he reared back, falling against him further, tears flowing from his eyes. He looked so perfect like this, Williams couldn’t help but lean over him and kiss his tears.

“Master! What do I do?” Rye cried out, his voice breaking. His hips were still rutting up, his cock fucking into his fist. Even now, even in the throws of agony, Rye was asking what he wanted him to do. That fact was so perfect, Williams could hardly contain himself. He slipped a hand up around his throat and gripped him tight, pulling him close against himself, holding him firmly in his grasp.

“Just take it, pet.” There was a low, possessive growl in his voice. “Keep touching yourself, there you go… You’re doing so well, so well for me…” As he spoke he made two more cuts, diagonal, connected to the first. “Oh, gods Rye, you’re so perfect like this… I’m going to do so many things to you…. Just hold on, I’ll let you cum after juuuust one more…”

Rye was crying, sobbing, taking all of it as he touched himself, kept himself hard and wanting for him. Williams could tell he was bringing himself close to the edge now. His body writhed in his lap, thick blood was covering his torso as he clung to him, panting and gasping for more with every second that passed. “Master -” he wailed, his hips bouncing ever so slightly, begging him with everything in his entire being. “Please!”

One last cut, connected to the first three, and Williams was done, happy to admire the mark he had made in his flesh. “Look…” he directed Rye’s gaze down to his chest, where a perfect W was now cut into his flesh. “You belong to me… and now everyone who sees you will know it… Now you can cum for me. Cum _now,_ looking at my mark on you, and then after that, I’m going to bend you over and make you cum _again._ ”

Rye eyes obediently went down to look at the W carved into his chest. A happy whimper bubbled up from him, his eyes fluttering and a perfect little smile on his lips. Williams could feel the emotions rolling off of him in waves, the happiness, the sudden sublime contentedness and joy, and within moments he was cumming. He cried out, gasping, his throat raw and hoarse as his body stiffened. His hips were rocking endlessly, pushing himself into his fist over and over as white seed shot out of him, and Williams could feel every single spasm go through his body as he held him in his arms.

He came down with a whimper, his body relaxing again. He was shaking, trembling as he lifted his fingers to touch the already healing cuts, and he moaned for him at the tremble of pain. “Thank you Master,” he said, his voice sounding dreamy and far away. After a moment of recovery, a flush graced his cheek again, and he seemed to notice just how hard Williams was, holding him like that. He squirmed back against him, grinding his ass on his cock, and it made Williams growl.

He felt so keyed up, his skin vibrating with energy, his cock achingly hard from watching Rye writhe and scream so beautifully, so perfectly. He was breathing heavily, admiring the marks he’d made on his new sireling, and squeezed him tighter, setting the blade down beside him. He stood, pulling Rye to his feet as well, and roughly turned them both around, bending Rye over the chair with one fluid motion.

“You’re welcome, darling…” His voice was dark, hungry. “Now then… Rye, Rye, _Rye_. How I’m going to enjoy possessing you through the centuries.” He slid a hand behind him, fingers seeking his entrance. They were slick with blood already, sliding into him regardless of it he tensed up, or not. And Rye was already so relaxed, he didn’t tense up at all. Williams half moaned, half growled as he felt him tight around his knuckles, and began to work him open. He buried his nose in his hair, drinking in the scent of him. “Mmmn, you’re so tight… Should I fuck you, my slut? My love?”

Rye was already panting and shaking, his body weak and giddy. He bit his lip, and he was blushing so beautifully, clearly shy to say everything that was on his mind. Williams brushed up against his nervous mind with his own, his consciousness teasing Rye’s, and gave him a small little push towards opening up. That did the trick, and filthy words poured fourth from his lips, words he had obviously had tucked away deep inside of himself for some time, all of them rushing forward now without anything to hold them back any longer.

“Please Master, fuck your slut! I… I need your cock in my tight hole. I’m aching for you…” he panted, the words falling from him in a slow, breathy rhythm. He pressed back into William’s touch, and Williams was only too happy to oblige him, stroking his skin and encouraging his ecstasy. “Please,” he whimpered. And then he did the most incredible thing Williams could have imagined; he reached behind himself with his hands to pull himself open for him, peering over his back at him with such wide, begging, puppy eyes, glossy with tears, and held himself wide for Williams to ravish.

Williams was more than happy to take what was being offered, already panting to get inside of him. He took a moment to pull his cock free, the clink of buckles brief before he pressed himself up against Rye’s now loosened hole. He withdrew his fingers, and then flipped him over so that he was facing him, and guided him to lay back on the chair.

“You wanted to face to me, last time, I remember. Well you may have your wish. Tilt your hips up for me… just like that.” As he moved him into position he pushed his legs back so that his ass was hiked up for him. Then he began to ease himself into him, hissing in pleasure at the tight heat of it. “That’s it… good boy…So good for me…”

Rye’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned like a wanton little whore, and Williams couldn’t get enough of him. His body was trembling, and he reached out to cling to him as Williams sank deeper and deeper inside of him, inch by inch, moment by moment, stretching him wide on his cock.

“Fuck,” Rye swore. “So good!” Williams flashed him a grin at that, and then pushed all the rest of the way in at once, making him writhe and moan beneath him. He could feel his hands gripping at him, nails digging into his shoulders. He leaned over him and kissed his neck, nipping at him as he began to fuck into him, rougher and more desperately. Gods, he wanted this man, the things he wanted to do to him…

“Master,” Rye whispered, in a voice not unlike a religious devotee giving a sacred prayer. “Master, I love you _. Please_ , I _need_ you,” he told him, arching up into him. If his heart still beat in his chest those words would have made his stop. He began to thrust harder into him in answer, hitting deeper with each push, filling him. He gripped him by the legs, and simply let him lie there, watched him moan and twitch for him. It was so beautiful. Rye’s confession of love hadn’t surprised him, and he was rather pleased to hear it. Even if he couldn’t exactly return the sentiment (not in the same way that Rye meant it, at least. He loved owning him, loved being with him, but he wasn’t exactly a romantic sort ), the lie slipped off his tongue easy as silver.

“And I love you, Rye.” It didn’t matter really if it wasn’t the same exact emotion Rye was talking about; he hadn’t been lying about caring for him and never planning on parting from him, and that was a kind of loving commitment wasn’t it? I his mind, that was the closest he could come to love. And his next words were nothing but truthful.

“Do you know, you skipped the queue? I usually keep humans as servants for several years before I turn them like this. There are quite a few waiting for their turn, but you…” He pushed deeper into him, his voice scratchy and breathless, “You were so… _special_ , that I had to have you right away. You are perfect. Your every reaction, every breath, every whimper and wide eyed stare is so perfect… I couldn’t resist you, Rye. Darkness knows I tried to.”

He nipped at his neck as he muttered these words, small bites that didn’t break the skin but made him want him, want to devour and possess him and keep him. Gods he was getting close… he could feel himself building towards that climax.

Rye still writhed beneath him, whimpering and keening as he listened to Williams words. He tilted his neck to allow Williams better access, his hips still rutting up to meet his thrusts, driving his cock in deep inside of him. “Thank you, Master…” He rocked with Williams as they fucked, his fingers digging into his back as he clung to him. He squeezed down on his cock, shaking his ass and panting with the exertion. Williams could tell he was close again, could feel the pleasure in his aura and in his cries of rapture.

  
  


  
“Master, Master -” he chanted over and over. His hard nipples were rubbing against Williams’s shirt, and it made him cry out with each touch, his leaking cock trapped between them. He was so hard, and needy, and Williams couldn’t imagine a more perfect sireling than this. Good gods, he had been here for so long, right under his nose, the perfectly most sublime sexually submissive partner he could ever have dreamed of. He kissed him, covered his lips with his own, and began to pick up the pace, driving in faster and harder. He pushed Rye’s legs as far back as they would go, sinking in deeper and filling him more and more. Finally he caught Rye’s lips his teeth, biting and drawing blood and growling low in his throat as he got closer and closer to the edge. Then he came, commanding Rye with a roar, “Cum for me _now_ , my perfect slut.”

Groaning as he rode out his climax, he gripped him tight, letting his hands run up and down his legs, and then grasping Rye’s cock, stroking him through his orgasm as well. Rye screamed out his own orgasm in tandem, his entire body shaking, vibrating, and Williams held him close in a tight embrace to let them ride through the surge together. “Yes! Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” he cried out. “Your slut is cumming Master!”

Spurt after spurt came from him, even as Williams filled him as well with his own seed, spending himself inside of him. He stroked him and held him through it, even as Rye shook with the force of it, crying, and screaming the entire time. Finally, they both came down, the rush of pleasure done, and they were both exhausted and spent. Rye collapsed against the chair, and he lay there panting, as though trying to remember how to breathe. He looked at him with tired by happy eyes, his face bright and flushed, and leaned up leaned up on shaking arms and kissed Williams once more, this time softer. Williams met his kiss with his own, stealing what little breath he had left away from him, and then Rye fell back onto the chair, drained and exhausted.

Williams gently helped lower him down to the ground, letting him stretch out after the ordeal his body had just been through. He smiled, letting him doze as he wiped him clean. “Good boy… I can’t wait to show you off. Such a precious treasure I’ve found, I’ll be the envy of all the Lords and Ladies, I’m sure.” He sighed happily, patting Rye on the head and smoothing out his hair. “Tomorrow evening we’ll have to continue journeying, as the next thing to do is return the signet ring to it’s owner. Which means that I’ll have to hypnotize a human to transport us, now.” He chuckled a little and shook his head, reproachful of his own uncharacteristic passion. “I really did turn you far too soon, but I simply couldn’t help myself. Ah well. I’ll deal with that, for now you should get some rest. You’ll have to share a coffin with me for the time being, I hope you don’t mind.”

Rye looked up through his heavy lids, and smiled at him. “Why would I mind?” he asked, letting out a small, giddy laugh. Williams stooped over him to pick him up, lifting his body in his arms and carried him over to the travel coffin. He laid him gently inside of it, and as Williams crawled in next to him he smiled when he noticed that Rye was already asleep, his eyes falling closed before his head had even hit the pillow. But there was still a serene little smile on his lips, and it warmed Williams’s cold dead heart to see it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rye's first night out as a vampire

Rye awoke the next night and could hear his Master talking to someone. He popped his head out of the coffin, and noticed that they were someplace else altogether. His Master must have sensed him because he looked over, and Rye smiled at him. Were they returning the ring? He was sure his Master would tell him as soon as he was done with the human. He was dressed now, but his shirt was loose, and he touched the W on his chest, feeling the slight scarring, and he was sure that if his heart were beating still it would have fluttered.

His Master had finished with the human, and walked over to him, grinning, and held out his hand, which Rye took.

“Evening, pet. We’ve managed a good leg of the trip… Stopping tonight in Lilyvale city. It’s the perfect opportunity for your first hunt. Well, first human hunt,” his Master said.

Rye blinked, and realized that yes, he was hungry – very hungry – and also that humans were now food. Oh. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, he wasn’t human anymore, and food was food, and nothing said he had to kill a human to feed from them, right? On the other hand, he had been human not too long ago. Was he really alright with this?

He thought about it, about the implications. As long as he didn’t kill them, he didn’t see a problem. After all, they weren’t so different from the rabbits now, were they? He had eaten rabbits as a human to stay alive, this was no different. He allowed his Master to help him out of the coffin, and landed silently on the ground, only a small shift of dust showing his movement at all.

“Master – I can feed without killing, right?” he asked. “I feel like hiding bodies would be a lot of work…,” he added, realizing that if nothing else, they needed to avoid drawing attention to themselves. “Blood is food, and food is life,” he told himself. He had known that vampires drank blood to survive, and he wasn’t about to up and die now by not eating…not when he was finally happy. 

“Of course, in fact it’s much safer to do so. How do you think I and my sirelings have stayed hidden for so long? Killing people tends to alert the humans… as you saw, with the train slaughter. Things like that tend to make things messy, and I much prefer things to be neat and tidy, wouldn’t you agree?” His Master said. He drew Rye close to himself, an arm around his shoulder.  
  
“Of course, you’re newly turned so it will be difficult for you to control yourself. But I’ll stop you before you kill the person. And I’ll wipe their memory right after. Mind control powers are somewhat of my specialty, which makes it easier. Now, the question is picking the human… do you have any preferences?”

Rye looked around as they walked out of the shadows. There were a lot of people out and about, but then that was a bigger city for you. The lights and sounds, and smells all flooded his heightened senses, and for a moment he was overwhelmed. He took a moment to calm himself, and he began to look around for someone to feed on.There were several contenders, though a few stood out. He saw a woman with fiery red hair, and barely concealed breasts, a man with a strange mechanical device on his head, balding, and muttering to himself as he took notes, and then there, coming out of the shop was a man who, while not an exact replica of his Master, was similar in build and complexion. Rye felt a thrill of excitement at seeing him.

“That one,” he said, pointing out the young gentleman. He was, of course not nearly as handsome or enthralling to look at as his Master, but he was handsome enough. Rye didn’t think he had a type, but then he seemed to be learning all sorts of things about himself it seemed. The man took out a small flask, drinking back, and Rye smelled the air – the man was drunk, and adding whiskey to the mix. He was sure of it. He didn’t know how, but he could just tell. 

His Master nodded, and led him into an alleyway close to where the man was walking. He patted his back, whispering to him, “Now, just go up to him, and try to get him to come back here out of sight. You’ll have a natural charm about you, so usually it shouldn’t be hard to manipulate the human to do what you want without using magic, but in the case that they aren’t cooperating you also have your abilities at your disposal. Bring him back here. We’ll share him.”  
He stroked his shoulder for an affectionate moment, before giving him a small prod out into the street.

Rye straightened his clothes, grateful these ones were at least clean, even if they were plain. He rubbed a hand over his smooth face, noting that it wasn’t growing, just as he’d thought might be the case. He shook his head, focusing. His hand wandered to his chest, touching the W scar through his shirt for comfort. He had never done this before he wanted to make his Master proud.

“Howdy stranger,” he said, voice low, and alluring. The man blinked at him, and then their eyes met, and Rye knew he had him, could feel him pressing against his mind.

“H-hi,” the man choked. Up close Rye could practically taste the whiskey on his breath. 

“Fancy a game of cards with me and my m-” Rye almost said Master and corrected it at the last second. “Mate over there?” he asked.

The man looked past Rye to where his Master was standing and then back to Rye, his eyes glassy, and unfocused.

“I do like cards. What’re you boys playing for?” the man slurred, following Rye as he backed away, leaning in towards him.

“Oh nothing you can’t afford to lose,” Rye said, laughing as the man startled, and grinned.

“Alright, sounds fun,” he said. Just as they were about to leave two men came up to them, friends of Rye’s prey.

“Patrick, where are you going? We have the girls all ready for you -” one called out as he slung an arm around him. Rye barely contained a growl of frustration, his fangs slipping out a bit. He tucked them back in, and sent them a charming smile. 

“Come now Patrick, girls over the game of a lifetime? Really?” he teased.

The men seemed to zero in on him, and he saw them do just like Patrick, their faces softening, both too drunk to find fear in him.

“Can we play too?” one asked.

Rye didn’t know what to say to that, but he thought to himself that three people might be too risky all at once.

“ ‘Fraid not boys. We’re full up with your friend here. But maybe next time, if you’re good,” he said, winking at them. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to completely disappoint those fine ladies waiting for you, would you?” he asked.

They shook their heads in tandem, and Rye almost laughed. They left, stumbling over themselves, and Patrick followed. Rye used his blood ability to keep the man upright more than anything, as he stumbled over his feet in his drunken state. Rye was flying high by the time he got them back over to his Master. He had done it!

His Master smiled as Patrick trailed after him obediently on Rye’s heels. He reached for Patrick as soon as they were close enough, grasping him by the shoulder, and pulling him deeper into the alley, positioning him between him and Rye. The man gasped in alarm, but his Master shushed him gently.  
  
“Now, Rye,” he began, sounding like a professor. “Try to use your mind to push against his. Find out what he wants. The best way to make humans do what you want, is to give them what _they_ want. If he’s horny, kiss him. If he wants money, tempt him. If he’s lonely, cajole him. Look into his mind… do what he wants you to do.”  
  
“Hey, what are you talking about?” Patrick slurred the question, frowning in confusion and trying to turn around to look at Rye’s Master. He was shushed gently again and his Master turned his head, directing his attention back to Rye.  
  
“Nothing, nothing at all. Just look into my partner’s eyes and relax.” Patrick did, turning his full attention back to Rye. He looked him deep in the eyes, reaching for his mind. “There we go. Deal with his desire if you can, and then go in for the jugular. Right… Here.” He put a gentle finger right where the most prominent vein on a human’s neck was to show Rye the spot. “Or, here.” He pulled the man’s hand up by the wrist, stroking the vein that sat right in the center.

Rye did as he was told, pressing his mind against the man’s. It gave way easily, without any real hassle, and Rye could see what he wanted – alcohol for one, and a warm body to fuck for another. Rye eased out of his mind, panting. Gods, it was so easy to just know things. What he wouldn’t have given to have had that skill as a sheriff. Now of course he didn’t need to worry about that, only this, and his Master.

Rye grabbed the man’s flask, tipping more liquid into his eager mouth, and then followed that with a press of his lips to the man’s. He could taste the whiskey, and a part of him wondered if his blood would taste like that too. The man moaned against him, pressing into him, and Rye started to kiss down his throat. He could feel the blood just beneath the surface, his pulse loud in Rye’s ears. He was so hungry – he sank his teeth into the man’s neck right where his Master had said. Hot blood gushed over his tongue and it was a million times better than the rabbit. The taste of whiskey was even there, and Rye could feel it making him light headed as he continued to drink, trying to sate the hunger he felt.  
  
  
He saw his Master bite into the other side of Patrick’s neck, and Rye moaned as he felt his presence, and the way the blood flowed between them.  
  
Patrick was caught between them, twitching and moaning out loud like he was getting fucked and it made Rye feel hot with need. He could feel himself getting hard, could feel the shared excitement between all of them, and he let out a small needy whimper of his own.  
  
Finally, though, when it was nearing too much, his Master pulled Rye off of him. Patrick gasped and slumped against his Master’s shoulders. “That’s enough… any more and you’ll kill him. But you can still play with him a bit, if you like.”

Rye was panting as he pulled away from the man, his body tingling, and his body thrumming with need. He looked at his Master for guidance. He felt like he was floating already, and he wasn’t sure what constituted ‘play’ in this scenario.

“Play, Master?” he asked. He could hardly focus, he was so aroused, and full, and warm. Gods, he hadn’t realized just how cold he had been until he was full of a human’s blood. He wiped at his chin, licking his lips, and waited for instruction.  
  
His Master laughed, propping up Patrick who was now limp as a ragdoll in his arms. “Being frank, Rye, I never bottom. But if you want to fuck someone, you can fuck the humans. He’s a nice, warm hole if you want it. And I think it would be rather exciting to see you lost to the grip of sensation like that. Make him moan.” Patrick shuddered, and looked like he was halfways conscious to what was being said. His Master kicked his legs open so that he was more accessible. The man didn’t resist.  
  
“I could fuck you while you fuck him. Or we could both share his hole at once. Aren’t those lovely ideas?” he asked.

Rye’s mouth went dry. Oh. _OH._ There was a lot there that he wanted. He bit his lip, and looked at the man. He was hard, and whining, and Rye couldn’t help but imagine the filthy picture being painted for him. His Master thought it would be nice to watch Rye fuck this man, that he would enjoy it. That was enough for him. 

“I want to fuck him while you fuck me,” he said, the thought sending shivers of desire down his spine, straight to his aching cock. The man was slowly sinking to his knees, and Rye lifted him up, and tugged down his pants, pushing him up against one of the walls making up the alley way. Rye pulled down his own pants, and freed his cock. He had never fucked a man before, and while he had a slight understanding of the mechanics, he wasn’t sure how to do it right.

“What do I do next?” he asked, squeezing the man’s plump ass.  
  
His Master chuckled a little at his question. “You’ll want to use something to get him wet. Spit, blood, those are at our disposal. Finger his hole open so that he can take it without tearing… unless you want to tear him.” Patrick was already humping the air, whining and rutting and out of his mind on alcohol and blood loss and sensual euphoria. He was quite the sight, sloppy and malleable.  
  
“Then whenever you’re ready, get your cock into him.” He moved to stand behind Rye, massaging his shoulders gently, encouraging him to get started.

Rye spit on his hand, and used it to wet the man’s hole. He knew from experience that he’d be feeling it the next day, but for now it would be quite the ride. He fingered him for a few moments, the man losing his damn mind, moaning like a cheap whore aiming for a raise. He held the man up, and then pressed into him, hissing at the tight heat of his body.

“Oh fuck,” Rye said, sighing as he filled him. The man was trying to wriggle back against him, and Rye had to hold him still so he wouldn’t cum too soon. 

He started with slow, tiny thrusts to get used to the sensation, and then harder, deeper ones as he grew accustomed. The man was out of his mind with lust and alcohol, becoming easy to maneuver, and used as a toy for his pleasure. He suddenly understood his own appeal a little better in that moment because it felt incredible. Rye wanted more though, needy thing that he was.

“Master -” he moaned, wanting the touch of his most beloved. His hips were going on their own, the man’s hole fluttering around his cock. It felt so good, and the only thing that would make it better would be getting fucked at the same time.  
  
His Master pressed him into Patrick’s back, and he felt fingers at his own entrance. “Good, good… Ready to be sandwiched between us? I’m going to pick up your pace, make you fuck into him so hard he’s going to be seeing stars for days.”  
  
His Master must have felt as desperate as he did, because he was pressing into him much faster than usual. Rye’s mind almost stopped for a full minute as his Master slid into him, fucking him hard. He drove Rye forward so that each of his Master’s thrusts would make Rye thrust into Patrick, who was openly crying now, wiggling his hips back to meet Rye in an effort to get off. Rye gasped as he was held firmly between them, his cock buried deep in the man, and his Master buried deep in him. He lost his train of thought and just stood there for a moment, his hips not knowing which way to go.

  
  


  
“Don’t forget to control him. You want him to make a sound? Make him moan or cry or beg? You can do anything you like. He’s yours to command,” his Master whispered.

Rye heard his words and a million thoughts went through him. He could do anything with him, make him say or act any way he wanted him to. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted. He let his mind wander against the man’s letting his subconscious do the controlling. The man started to cry, and whine harder, fucking himself back into each thrust. Any control the man had was gone as spit dripped down his chin and he started to babel. Yes, that was what Rye wanted – how he felt.

“Fuck, never took a cock before, so good. It’s so fucking good. Gods, I should have been a whore instead of a banker -” the man cried.

Rye let out a small, surprised laugh.

“Would you like that?” Rye asked. “I bet Master could make you forget all about being a banker,” he teased, grinding his hips in for emphasis.

“Lady of Light – yes,” the man hissed. “Nothing but a good hole to fuck -” he whined. Poor dear. Rye understood perfectly, because in many ways they were the same, except that he only wanted to belong to his Master. Rye turned his head to look at his Master over his shoulder. He bet that would be fun, but he didn’t want to say any more without permission first. 

“Master,” he purred.  
  
“Mmm, yes pet.” his Master breathed. “Do you want to make him cum? You could leave him unsatisfied if you want. Or you could grab his cock and make him spend himself, make him scream himself hoarse.” He dipped his lips to kiss Rye’s neck. “I know my preferences… _you_ always look so lovely in ecstasy. I’m going to cum soon, and fill you with seed, if you wish to do the same.”

Rye wanted the man to feel good, as good as he felt, though he doubted that was possible. He grabbed the man’s hips, pulling him back onto his cock as he fucked into him. The man was moaning, and Rye couldn’t help but wonder how hard it would be to play with his mind, to allow him to embrace his desires like Rye had. It was a much better life to live after all. It didn’t take long before Rye was cumming, filling the man, feeling it ooze out around his cock, his cum dribbling down the man’s thighs. Rye was screaming, not caring who heard him, as his orgasm took him, and he lost himself for a moment. When he came back to himself, he wrapped a hand around the man’s leaking cock, jerking him off in quick, hard strokes, the man sobbing through it as he came.

He eased the man down to the ground, letting him settle into the puddle of their combined cum, and Rye smiled at what a good job he had done. The man looked blissed out of his mind, a grin spreading across his face as he sat there panting. Rye looked back at his Master, and offered him a pleased grin of his own. He was still feeling needy, but now he wanted cuddles. Though he wouldn’t say no to being fucked again. He didn’t know how he could be so horny, but he wasn’t complaining. There was a strange enjoyment to being aroused all the time.  
  
His Master smiled, having spent himself as well, and it was dripping down Rey’s thighs. He pulled Rye into his arms and pulled him close. Rye let his head fall against his chest, and his Master bundled him in like a babe that needed care and attention. They spent some time like that, his Master stroking his hair and letting him come down from the high, and would have spent longer if the man Rye had just fucked hadn’t gasped and whined where he lay on the ground.  
  
Rye watched as his Master crouched down in front of the man, jerking him by the chin to force him to make eye contact. The man was barely conscious, now, after all of that. He would certainly be in rough shape in the morning. “You’re going to forget about the feeding. Vampires do not exist. But you’re not going to forget getting fucked. You liked that. You’re going to remember that above everything else from tonight.”

Once he was done, he took Rye’s hand, and Rye couldn’t help the happy blush that was spreading across his cheeks.  
  
“Come. It’s time to retire for the night. You did very well. I’m very proud of you,” his Master told him.

Rye was on cloud nine. His Master had praised him, and he had gotten to cum, and feed, and it was so much more wonderful than anything he could have imagined. It was so strange – when he had been appointed the position of Sheriff he had tried to lead a better life, a clean life. Now that he was a vampire he didn’t have to hide himself. He could enjoy the blood lust on an entirely different level. His Master had truly blessed him.

He watched the man he had fed on and fucked as he walked away, and then back at his Master. His life was so much better now, and he could hardly wait to see what each new day would bring. 

“Master -” Rye started. There was a lot happening in his mind but he settled on the most important. “Thank you,” he said at last. “I’m so happy now,” he told him.


	15. Chapter 15

  
  


  
Williams thought that Rye was coming along exceedingly well, and was _very_ pleased at how easily he had taken to life as a vampire. There was little doubt in his mind that he could be presented to other vampires, lords and sirelings both, without worry of how his behaviour would reflect on himself. Rye, after all, would likely do absolutely anything he told him to, and thank him afterwards. The knowledge and assurance of that warmed his cold, dead heart. Rye truly was a treasure of a submissive.

They spent the next several days in transport, with hypnotized humans taking them from city to city each and every step of the way. Williams much preferred to have consistent, trusted servants to handle tasks like this, but when one had to make do, one made do. He really had turned Rye far too soon, but what was done was done and he wouldn’t have changed things even if he could.

Finally, they arrived in the territory of Lord Victor Varissel. Varissel was an old friend, one that Williams knew going back centuries. He was more traditional than himself however, more apt to keep to the old ways and customs, and Williams had not seen him in a very long time. The instant he awoke, he could feel his presence, like a looming entity over the city. As Rye awoke next to him, he took his hand and helped him out of the coffin.

“We’re here. It’s time to make a call on the good Lord who owns the stolen signet ring…” he paused, and frowned a little as he looked over his new sireling. “Now, it might be a little frightening for you, you’ll be around more vampires than just myself in his manor. Be respectful, mind your manners, and there won’t be any issue.” He gave the warning gently, knowing it was really more of a precaution than anything. He wasn’t truly worried that Rye wouldn’t behave, but was more concerned that Rye would feel overwhelmed without a proper heads up.

There was, of course, a high likelihood that Varissel would want to thank them by giving a gala in honor of Rye’s turning, a quite old tradition and one that Williams rather enjoyed as well. But Rye didn’t have to know about _that_ quite yet. He took Rye with him to the manor, and they approached openly as guests come to call, to the front gate. The manor was, much like his own, shielded by spells that made it difficult to maintain your gaze on the building. Humans who might wander near would find they couldn’t really see the place, as their eyes would slip from it before they had looked for more than a fraction of a second. He could tell the spell was there, but he was far too powerful for it to fool him. Rye on the other hand looked as though he was struggling to maintain his focus, which was good. If he had had no aptitude at all, he wouldn’t have even known it was there.

They were greeted at the gate by a servant; a sireling vampire who bowed deeply to him. Williams inclined his head in turn. “The Master welcomes you. May I inquire who calls?”

“Lord Williams, and sireling Rye Rivers. I have something for your Master that he will, no doubt, be most anxious to have returned to him.” The sireling bowed again, and saw them into the foyer of the manor before moving into the house to inform the Lord of the area of the visitors.

As they walked through the halls, their footfalls echoing on the stone beneath their feet, Rye was staying quite close to Williams. It was rather adorably like a child, clutching on to the arm or leg of their parent. Wide eyed and nervous about the uncertainty of the world around them. Williams had to smile at it. He knew that Rye could likely feel the presence of the other vampires in the vicinity, especially Varissel’s. Williams could sense him too. They were in the heart of his territory after all, and his presence was heavy here. Rye had never felt the presence of a vampire lord this strongly, not one that wasn’t Williams. His nervous behaviour was understandable. Williams observed the way he kept his eyes averted from the vampires they passed, the servants that greeted them, and it was precious.

Rye was, clearly, quite _shy._ How novel.

He could also sense Rye’s anxiety. It dripped off of him, soaking his aura in a cloud of worries. Williams could guess his concerns without even exerting the power to look into his thoughts. He didn’t know anything about social etiquette or procedure. Really, he needn’t have worried so much; there really wasn’t much he could do as a fresh sireling that would offend anyone as long as he was respectful. But he found his obvious concern for making a good first impression rather charming. As they waited, he set a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “Do not worry. Just be polite, follow my lead. When we meet Lord Varissel, give as courteous a bow as you can, and answer any questions he asks you respectfully. If he doesn’t ask you anything, simply remain quiet. I will handle most of the conversation, so you don’t need to worry.”

Rye nodded his understanding, though he didn’t look any less nervous. He did look around, an open curiosity in his eyes. This was his first time in a vampire’s home, after all, and Williams knew he was likely taking it all in. The manor was large, with rooms and hallways in every direction. A large staircase wound upwards towards a second floor. There was plush carpeting in rich colours, and cool marble floors throughout. Paintings and statues and relics of ages past decorated the vast space. Rye, from little Waysafe, had probably never seen anything so splendid in all of his life.

The Lord’s sireling returned a few moments later, and ushered them in further into the manor. They were both as silent as the grave, and they moved with unearthly grace. Williams thought with approval that were quite well trained in the classic style of vampire etiquette and behaviour, which didn’t surprise him. Varissel was nothing if not thorough.

When they came to the main reception room, there was the man was lounging on a chair, draped across it like silk, wearing only a white robe. Varissel had blond hair and light skin, a sharp contrast to Williams’ darker features, but was just as ethereally beautiful. Like Williams, he had a strange look about him that made you think he could be young or very, very old and you weren’t sure which.

  
  


  
He stood when they entered, and Williams bowed deeply. Rye seemed to almost lose his footing and run into his back and shoulder, but collected himself in time to mimic the bow he had seen Williams take. Varissel returned the gesture.

“So you’re going by ‘Williams’ now are you?” Varissel’s voice filled the room. He sounded halfways between bored and amused. “How many times have you changed your name? You’ve always been one for dramatics.” As if he was one to talk about dramatics, Williams thought with a wry smile. “Well? I’m told you have something for me?”

Williams nodded and brought the ring out of his pocket to hold it up. The lamplight flickered and caught the jewel, making it gleam in his fingers. “I found this in my territory. A little miscreant was skulking around, making trouble with it. I took care of the mess for you… you’re welcome.” He winked

Varissel scoffed, as he strode towards him and took the ring off his hands with a derisive shake of his head. “That blasted little wretch of a sireling, and his posse. I’ve inconvenienced you with my mishaps… dreadfully embarrassing. I suppose I owe you thanks.” He looked reluctant, like the whole thing was terribly bothersome, as he crossed his hands over his chest. “And who is this?” He gestured towards Rye. Williams put an arm around Rye’s shoulders and prodded him forwards just a little.

“This is my sireling, Rye Rivers. Formally a Sheriff in one of my cities. He helped with the mess as well.”

“Did he now.” The vampire peered at Rye for a long moment, and drew in a long breath as he leaned in near to him. “You smell newly turned, sireling. Tell me, how long have you been one of us?”

Rye bowed before the Lord again, and then pulled out his pocket watch, looking it over in his hand with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Two weeks, three days, and nine hours,” Rye said. Williams had to withhold himself from chuckling, and was halfway surprised he hadn’t given him the minutes and the seconds as well. Varissel peered at him, and Rye flushed, looking like he very much wanted to squirm away from him. His eyes flicked over to his Williams, and his expression softened, as though the sight of his Master had soothed and reassured him. Varissel had watched the micro-expressions on his face as carefully as Williams had, and had a bit of an amused smirk on his face.

“Very precise of you.” He didn’t quite laugh, but there was the sound of it in his voice. Then he turned again to Williams. “He’s _quite_ new. Has he had a welcoming reception yet?”

“No, we’ve been on the road. That was the next order of business after I get him home.” Williams stroked Rye’s hair, gently pulling him towards himself. He wanted to show him off a little, how perfectly docile and dedicated he was. How easily he blushed. He and Varissel had, in this moment, a connection between them in the regarding of the newly turned and clearly vulnerable, wide eyed sireling. They both saw him at least somewhat as prey, and Williams was one predator showing off his catch to another.

“Well there’s no time like the present. You haven’t made a new sireling in several decades if I recall correctly. Let me thank you for your aid, and welcome him into the fold. I’d dearly love to hear the no doubt juicy tale of how you decided to turn him.”

Although they spoke of Rye, they were mostly focused on conversing with each other, as though Rye were a pet to be discussed. Williams smiled and gave a short nod. “Well if you insist. He needs to be properly socialized anyways.” Williams watched Rye out of the corner of his eye. At the mention of a gala, he could feel Rye stiffen, could feel his anxiety mounting. He kept his arm around him and stroked him gently, and let his mind and power sink into Rye a little to calm and relax him. Soon Rye was leaning into him, practically nuzzling him as he discussed the details with Varissel, and he truly did feel like he had a puppy in his lap, a pet that trusted him implicitly. It was wonderful, and made him feel rather soft.

When the details were decided upon he thanked Varissel, who assured them that preparations would be seen to in the next few days, and to meantime enjoy his hospitality. The sireling from earlier showed them to a room deep in the basement of the manor, where all the vampire living quarters were located. Down here, coffins were unnecessary.

He let Rye get settled, before sitting down on the bed and patting the space next to him. “Come. Tell me what’s on your mind. Do you have any questions?” He knew that Rye would likely have many, and want to know exactly how he was meant to behave.

Rye slumped down next to his next to him, placing his head on his shoulder with a bit of a sigh, and looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I don’t know how to act or what to say…also my clothes aren’t exactly party appropriate. What if I embarrass you? I’ve never been that great with people, and these are important vampires, right? What if I mess up?” he asked. “I just don’t want to bring shame to you,” he said, tugging at his worn shirt. He turned and buried his face against Williams’s shoulder. “I know you would never let anything bad happen to me, so I’m not worried about getting hurt or anything. I’m more worried I’ll commit some sort of faux pas, or trip over my feet or something.”

Williams laughed and ruffled his hair. Then he took his face in his hands and directed his gaze to his own. “Oh, you sweet, sweet thing. That’s what you’re worried about? Listen, Rye. You can’t possibly embarrass or shame me. You’re perfect. Why do you think I couldn’t resist turning you? You are a rare and valuable find, and every vampire at that party is going to be absolutely stricken by jealousy of me for having you. Just be your sweet self, you can’t possibly offend anyone.” He chuckled, thinking of the effect Rye’s big puppy dog eyes were going to have on absolutely everyone who attended.

“As for clothes, you don’t think the Lord of the manor is going to make you go dressed in travel wear do you? He’ll provide the outfit you will wear. It will look incredible, it will be expensive, and tailored to you specifically. You’re going to turn heads.”

Rye’s face was flushed bright pink as he turned and kissed his Williams’s palm. “Master, you always know what to say to make everything better,” he said with a pleased sigh. He shifted himself into Williams’s lap, and wrapped his arms around him, while Williams slid his own around his shoulders. “I hope I make people jealous of me too, for having the best Master,” he said, letting out a small laugh.

Williams chuckled at that. “Well, I’m pleased that you think so.” He drew Rye with him down onto the bed, guiding him to the covers. It had been some time since either of them had slept in a bed, and the first time since Rye had been turned. The soft pillows drew them in and he tucked them into the sheets, keeping one arm around Rye as he lulled him to sleep for the daylight hours.

The next few evenings were spent exploring the city, or having them both fitted for new clothes by a human tailor who was one of Varissel’s servants, but he was anxious to get Rye to the party and show him off. Vampires from out of town were coming in and there were more of them in the manor every night. Williams introduced Rye to the ones he knew, though they didn’t stay long in their company. The introduction ceremony at the gala was meant to be the real ritual welcoming, and there was superstition around getting to know the newly turned too much before the ritual.

Before they knew it, it was time for the night of the party.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rye gets to go to a party that's just for him

The time spent at Lord Varissel’s home was almost like a dream. It was so different from his old, everyday life, and he found himself enjoying each new experience more and more, despite his nervousness. He wasn’t so sure how he felt about a party in his honour though. That was…overwhelming, to say the least.

Rye was waiting for his Master to return with his outfit for the party. He hadn’t really gotten to see it, only been measured and prodded several times. His Master had assured him that he would be talked about for centuries, that was how spectacular the outfit would be. Rye had been instructed to wait, naked, in their room. Once he had stripped down, and bathed, he sat on the bed and waited.

The longer he waited the more anxious he got. He knew there was nothing to worry about, not really, but the idea of walking into a huge party dedicated to him, where he only knew one person was nerve wracking. He tugged at his hair, trying to get it to behave. He was sure his Master would end up fixing it no matter what he did, but he hoped to at least make it easier. He waited, and waited, missing his Master’s presence. It made him fidget, and he was sure any progress he _had_ made on his hair, was now ruined from him tugging at it.

The door opened, and Rye was off the bed in his excitement at being with his Master again. He didn’t know why, but something about the place made him feel uneasy when they were apart. Perhaps a part of the protections on the manor? His Master had briefly explained the magic involved but Rye wasn’t sure he understood it well at all. Now his Master had a box with his outfit, and it was time to get ready. Rye tried to swallow his nerves.  
  
His Master sat the box down on the bed, and opened it, letting Rye finally see what he would be wearing for the evening. Rye gasped as he saw the outfit. It was a deep, blood red suit that looked like it was made for a prince. He reached out to touch it, and it was so soft against his skin.  
  
“First you’ll need to put this on, though.” his Master said. He held up what was more or less a thong made out of ropes and dangling with jewelry. There were matching jewels for his nipples and cock, which would be visible through a hole in the center of the thong. The jewelry would sit around the length of it, curling in spirals to the tip to give an elegant kept-pet aesthetic. Rye blushed as he took it all in.  
  
“Come on… try it on.”

Rye felt a wave of nerves when he saw the outfit, or more specifically the underwear, if one could call it that. He had no idea how to get it on, or the point to the jewels all over it since it would be under his admittedly stunning outfit. He took the underwear from his Master, and tried to work it out, but sighed as he struggled with it.

“I may need some assistance with this,” he said, holding up the garment.  
  
His Master let out a small laugh, but took pity on him and helped him into it, guiding him to where his legs went, and pulling his cock out through the front. Finally he added the jewelry as the final touch. He let out a pleased sigh, and Rye found himself squirming a bit at the way he looked at him.  
  
“There… you look exquisite. Do you like it?” his Master asked. He looked amused at Rye’s discomfort, but there was no helping it. Rye wasn’t entirely sure how he felt. The underwear was incredibly revealing, showcasing his cock, and jewelry on his nipples too that matched. He felt sexual in a way he never had before, and he had to admit that he liked the way his Master’s eyes roamed over his body, making his cock ache with interest. Gods, how was he supposed to make it through the night without getting hard? At least the outfit covered his body. 

  
  


  
His Master helped him into the suit. It was tight, but not uncomfortably so. He felt the soft fabric, the way it hugged his form, accentuating his frame. The underwear made his cock push forward, creating an obvious bulge that would be impossible to hide. 

His Master was, quite frankly, ogling him, and it was hard not to preen beneath the attention. His nipples were clamped in jewelry that kept them pressing on the fabric of his top, and when he looked down he could see they were sticking straight out. The rope underwear was pressing against his skin, each line of it drawing his attention to the various lines of his body. It squeezed his ass, making it seem even more plump than usual, and he found himself flushing at how aware he was of his body.

“It’s tighter than I had expected,” he confessed. “But I do feel very -” he struggled to find the right word. “Attractive? Or Fancy?” he said, though it ended up as more of a question. “I like that you like it,” he added, smiling at his Master.  
  
His Master grabbed a handful of his ass, pulling him in towards him. “I’m glad. You look like a proper pampered pet. It’s very…” He leaned in and placed a kiss on his neck. “Alluring. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the party without bending you over and fucking you in front of everyone.” His words sent a shiver down Rye’s spine, and he wasn’t sure how they would avoid that either. His Master took a few moments to fix Rye’s hair, straightening and smoothing out a few wrinkles in Rye’s outfit. Then it was finally time.  
  
Varissel’s sireling returned to lead them both out and into the main hall of the manor, where a good sizable amount of vampires, lords and ladies dressed in finery, had already begun to gather. Many of them had already been introduced, but many had not yet. Rye felt nervous around so many vampires, their aura’s overwhelming.  
  
There were a few humans bound to the tables, naked men and women who were hypnotized or drugged into a compliant stupor, available for the guests to drink from. Many chose to fill wine glasses with blood so as to be free to move around and chat with other guests. At the top of the stairs stood Lord Varissel, who upon seeing the entrance of his Master and Rye, called for everyone’s attention.  
  
“Thank you all for coming. As is tradition, this is a ceremonial welcoming party, as there is a new sireling in our ranks this evening. Everyone please welcome Lord Williams and the guest of honour, Rye Rivers. May the sun never shine on your face and may blood ever run hot.”  
  
The guests repeated the mantra as everyone turned to bow graciously, and then the party resumed.  
  
“Well?” his Master whispered to him. “How are you feeling?”

“That wasn’t so bad,” Rye said, feeling a small rush of relief. If all he had to do was stand around and look nice in his clothes, he was sure the evening would be a success. That was until they stepped further into the room, and Rye caught a glimpse of himself in one of the huge ornate mirrors that made up the walls of the room. His outfit that had once hidden his body was see-through beneath the light of the thousands of candles in the room. It took all he had not to stop dead in his tracks, his eyes following his reflection that seemed to be caught in every surface.

It felt like everyone was staring at him, murmuring to each other. He had never had so many hungry looks turned towards him at once. Eyes raked over his body, often landing for long moments on his bejewelled cock, or his nipples. He couldn’t stop the blush that was turning his cheeks pink. He had never felt more self conscious in his life. He could see the underwear clearly now, ropes crossing around the lower half of his body, drawing down the lines of his muscles, along his hips, and around his ass. He looked positively obscene. Was that really him? 

His clean shaven face was one he hadn’t seen in years, and he looked young without any facial hair. His groin was of course also without hair, which could also be seen through the clothing. His desire to cover himself was strong, but he had a feeling that he wasn’t supposed to. Instead he clenched his hands into fists, and tucked them behind his back, holding his hands there so he wouldn’t give in to temptation. This of course puffed his chest out even more, and by the time they were fully situated in the room he could feel the arousal coursing through him. His cock was filling, and he willed himself to calm down but it was hard when there were so many eyes, and the clothes were designed to elicit such a response.

“Master -” he whined softly, unable to keep back the desperation from his voice. He had joked about bending Rye over and fucking him in the middle of the party, and as he was in that moment, he wouldn’t have said no.  
  
“Yes, darling?” he asked, seemingly unaware that anything was amiss. He guided Rye with one hand about his shoulders to the dining tables and handed him a glass that was already full of blood. “Feel free to enjoy, it’s your party after all.”  
  
“Is this the new sireling I’ve heard tell of?” A woman’s voice came from behind Rye, and a vampire dressed in a slimming black cocktail gown draped her arms around him from behind. His Master smiled and nodded to her. Rye could feel panic creeping in, but remained calm. He just needed to look good.  
  
“It is… this is Rye. He’s quite the treasure.”  
  
“I’ll say… you did pick a nice one.” She leered openly at him, admiring his body without any pretense otherwise. “And?” She smiled at Rye, “How are you finding things in the night world?”

Oh Gods, Rye had to talk? He blushed at the way she was looking at him, and then cleared his throat, and leaned into his Master, her arms slipping off of him. Turning on his most charming smile – he hoped it was charming anyway- and answered her.

“It’s wonderful,” he said, honest and open, with just a hint of excitement. “I’ve never been happier,” he told her. He looked up at his Master, and tilted his head so he could rest it on his shoulder for a moment. “But then I’m fortunate to have such an incredible Master,” he purred as he took his Master’s arm. As he talked, his nerves faded. Yes, if he could just talk about how much he adored his Master all night he would be more than fine.

“This is a lovely party, isn’t it?” Rye asked her. “His Lordship is so kind,” he added with a smile. It was true too. The Lord Varissel had been very kind to them, even providing an outfit for Rye to wear – even if it was revealing. He could say it was because the Lord owed his Master for returning his ring, but in truth he suspected he liked a good party. All the vampires there seemed to be in high spirits actually.

Rye was starting to relax as more and more vampires came over to talk to them, though he made certain to stay close to his Master. All was going well until one vampire showed up.  
  
“Well, hello. It’s been some time, dear Williams,” the man drawled.  
  
“Ah. Hello Phillip,” was his Master’s terse reply.  
  
“And this must be the sireling… Rye, was it?” The man took Rye’s hand. “A pleasure to meet any of yours.” 

Rye felt the mood shift, could feel the irritation coming off his Master in waves. He looked between the two of them, and looked back just in time to have the man kiss his hand. Something about the vampire before him – Phillip – had him on edge. He forced himself to relax. After all, it wouldn’t do to be rude.

Rye gave a small bow in greeting, and clung even tighter to his Master’s arm. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Rye said, forcing as much warmth as he could into his voice. It was hard though when he could feel the tension in the room. “Are you enjoying the party?” he asked. Maybe if he was polite and distracting enough his Master would be able to relax again? “His Lordship is a wonderful host, isn’t he?” he asked. Yes, direct the conversation away from them.  
  
Phillip smiled, showing his fangs. “Oh yes. Quite the honor to be dined by Lord Varissel. I hope that you, dear new one, will have many an opportunity in the coming centuries to enjoy galas such as this. Your own Master,” here he inclined his head with a smirk towards his Master, “has been known to host rather lovely festivities himself. Isn’t that right Williams?”  
  
“Quite. And you, Phillip? What brings you all the way to Varissel’s territory? You can’t have come just because you heard I would be here,” his Master said.  
  
“Tsk. I’m heartbroken. You don’t think I would come to see what human had managed to catch your eye? For everything else you may be you do have excellent taste.”

Rye watched them as they spoke, and he could tell there was some kind of history there. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was making him nervous. His Master was being smooth and polite, but there was barely restrained irritation under the surface towards Phillip. Rye took the man in. His clothes were exquisite, but less so than his Master, his hair perfectly coiffed, his posture relaxed, but his tone gave him away.

There was music playing softly, and Rye looked over at the various dancing couples. 

“Master,” Rye said in a gentle tone. “Would you care to dance?” he asked, blushing. In truth Rye had no idea how to dance anything other than a two step, but if it gave his Master an excuse to get away he would gladly provide it. If nothing else, Rye wanted to get away from Phillip. He didn’t like how he looked at him. There was something there that went beneath the hunger of the other vampires that had him on edge.  
  
His Master grinned, taking Rye’s hand. “It would be a pleasure. Phillip, as always, lovely to see you. If you’ll excuse us.”  
  
The mood lifted almost as soon as they were on the dance floor. His Master wasted no time in wrapping a hand around Rye’s waist, and they began to spin. Rye’s steps were a little shaky, but his Master guided him, leading the dance at a slow enough pace that Rye could follow, and soon had him spinning with him in time to the music.  
  
“You’re doing wonderfully.” He whispered, lips at his ear.. 

Rye blushed at the praise, pleased that he was doing well. As much as he didn’t know how to dance, his Master was an amazing lead, and had him spinning and twirling with grace. He almost forgot about everyone else in the room as he lost himself in his Master’s arms.

The music was winding down, and changing into a new song, and he saw a vampire approaching them. The man tapped his Master on the shoulder, and they paused their dancing.

“Might I cut in?” the vampire asked. Rye felt his eyes roaming over his body, like so many others, and blushed. For a moment he had forgotten that he was basically naked, but he was once again reminded as the man strayed to his cock.  
  
His Master made a gracious bow and let the man exchange places with him. Rye tried not to panic as he felt arms pulling him in close.  
  
“Have fun! I’ll be right here,” he called to Rye. He took in his Master’s position in the room, before he was swept into a dance. 

The vampire was, if nothing else, polite – save for his wandering hands. His fingers were caressing Rye’s lower back, just above his ass, along his spine. He also danced much faster than his Master, and Rye had to do his best just to keep up with him.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” the vampire asked.

“Very much so,” Rye said, looking up at him.

“Williams is a lucky man, finding such a catch as yourself,” he said, leaning in to whisper it in Rye’s ear. His breath was warm, making Rye shiver. He wasn’t used to anyone but his Master being so close. 

Halfway through the dance, a stunning vampire in a low cut dress cut in.

“You must excuse me, my Lord, but I simply cannot resist this scrumptious boy a moment longer,” she said with a laugh. The man smiled at her, offering Rye into her arms.

“Worry not, I am also an excellent lead,” she told Rye, winking at him. She swept him into her arms, and led them in the dance, making small talk.

“Ah, such a treasure you are,” she cooed, playing with the fabric of his clothes. “And so well built,” she added, her hands sliding over his sides.

“Th-thank you,” he stammered, blushing. He was desperate for everyone to stop touching him like that. It was arousing him, and his outfit was far too see through to hide it.

“If he ever grows bored of you, feel free to find me,” she whispered as the song ended.

Rye thanked her for the dance, shrugging off her comment. He was sure his Master was not so fickle. A new song began, and someone pulled him into their arms. Song after song this continued, until he saw Phillip making his way towards him. 

“Might I cut in?” Phillip asked the vampire who had been twirling Rye into a dizzy spell. The vampire spun Rye right into Phillip’s waiting arms.

“A pleasure to see you again,” Rye managed to get out as he tried to find his balance. The music changed once more. “If I might have a moment to gather myself -” Rye tried.

A firm arm slid around his waist and helped him regain his footing. “Not to worry, I have you.” Before Rye could protest, Phillip had them turning to the music once again.  
  
“You really are a sight, you know… out here, dancing, everyone just waiting their turn to get their hands on you. You have your pick of every suitor in the place. Although, you seem to have eyes only for one.” He smirked. “Is he really that good? Your ‘Williams’ as he calls himself now. I’ve always been curious.”  
  
He got a little handsier than others had, getting in closer so that Rye would feel his cock rut up against his. Let his hand fall a little lower, to grope at his ass. 

Rye was more than a little flustered, and Phillip rubbing himself all over him wasn’t helping. For the first time he felt truly uncomfortable, and despite his best efforts to make a bit of space between them, he was practically glued to the other vampire.

Rye had a million different answers running through his head, most of them incredibly rude. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t be an embarrassment, but he wondered if that extended to Phillip. He decided to compromise and only be a little biting.

“Better than you could imagine,” Rye said. “He’s perfect for me in every way. I wouldn’t trade him for anything in existence,” he told him, his voice low but firm. He stared him in the eyes, daring him to say something bad about his Master. 

He could feel other eyes watching them. They all must have been aware that his Master didn’t like Phillip, and he could hear them whispering, mostly a lot of ‘Can you believe he showed up here’ and ‘How bold’ often followed by ‘how rude’.  
  
Phillip nodded graciously. “Of course. Sounds like a proper fairy tale. You’re both very lucky.” Before long, a few more turns around, a woman cut in without waiting for the song to change.  
  
“I think you’ve occupied the new sirelings time long enough. Let me have a spin.” She smiled an almost but not quite friendly smile, and Phillip looked annoyed, but bowed out. She wrapped her arms around Rye, a little more respectfully, and continued the dance.  
  
“I do hope you’ll forgive his rudeness, young one. And I hope you’re having a lovely time. Your Master has excellent taste…. So does the Lord Varissel, if his fashions are any indication.” She laughed lightly as she nodded downwards, indicating his attire. Rye blushed, but thanked her anyway. Finally when the song was coming to a close she spun him right back into his Master’s waiting arms.  
  
“Take care of your pet, Williams dearest.” She blew them both a kiss as she strode off.   
  
Rye practically collapsed in his Master’s waiting arms. He sent her a grateful smile, before turning back to his Master.

“She’s nice,” Rye said as he nuzzled into his Master’s chest. He felt wired with adrenaline, Phillip’s words making him irritated. He was grateful to the vampire who intervened though. “We should send her a present or something. Phillip is…” he searched for the right word, but they were all rude. “It doesn’t matter what he is. He isn’t you and that’s all that matters,” he said at last.

Gods, despite his time with Phillip, he was still feeling horny, and being near his Master wasn’t helping that. The jewelry on his cock was driving him to distraction, and between that and the way eyes fondled him, he was ready to beg to be fucked. He wondered how much party was left. He didn’t want to be rude and leave early, especially after Lord Varissel had been so kind as to throw the party in the first place. Still, it was hard not to rub himself against his Master’s leg.

Rye breathed in his scent, and let it wash over him. A bit longer he told himself, and then he could ask his Master to fuck his hole. Just thinking about it was getting him hard.  
  
“Nice?” his Master laughed at that. “I don’t know if I would describe anyone here, perhaps with the exception of yourself, with that word.” He patted Rye’s back for a moment, stroking it with affection. “And don’t worry yourself about Phillip. He’s… well, as you said it doesn’t matter. Tonight is about much more pleasant things. Like, for example, this.” He reached down to grasp Rye by the cock, letting his fingers slide over the jewelry.  
  
“Would you like to give everyone a show? What do you think?” He was already guiding them gently towards the dinner tables where there were plush seats available. Other vampires had already noticed the change in atmosphere, and were licking their lips in anticipation.

Rye flushed. Was he actually going to fuck him in front of everyone there? His Master was leading him to the tables, and chairs. He thought the sensible thing to do would be to say no, but his body was screaming ‘yes’ over and over, and he gave in without a fight. He followed him over, his cock bobbing between his legs, already hard, the jewelry tight on him now. There was no hiding that he was hard, and he could feel the vampires all watching them, all hungry for him.

They got to the tables, and his Master pulled out a chair, spinning it around, and sat on it. Rye swallowed hard. He wanted his Master.

“Please,” was all he said in the quiet room.


	17. Chapter 17

Williams looked at him, sitting there with his eyes wide and pupils blown, panting and desperate already, begging him with his body, his face, his words. “’Please’ he says to me…” he mused, his gaze growing intense as he gazed at his sireling. “How could I ever refuse?” Slowly he pulled Rye’s pants down, the sheer fabric slipping with ease to the ground. It was methodical, almost ritual, as he removed the jewlery on his cock so that he could run his hands up and down it. He wanted to make Rye whine, and he wasn’t dissapointed, enjoying the high pitched sound of it and the way Rye’s eyes fluttered.

Then he slid one leg out from where he sat. He kept eye contact with Rye, smiling serenely. “If you trust me, drop to your knees and rut yourself against my boot.” He picked up a glass that was sitting on the table behind him and waited. He wanted to see him do it, the thrill of knowing he could command this, and Rye would comply, embarassment be damned.

And Rye didn’t hesitate. Not even for a moment. It was as though, despite the crowd of onlookers, the only people in the room was the two of them.. He straddled his boot, his cock sliding against the new leather. He whimpered as it rubbed against him, and he started to rock his hips, his hands clinging to William’s leg.

“Ah! Master -” he wailed. His cock was leaking already as he fucked himself against Williams’s boot, leaving a smear of wet in his wake. “It feels so good!” he cried out. It was like he simply couldn’t even help himself, the poor thing, overwhelmed with the sensations and the expereince of it all. Williams enjoyed knowing that he had done this, that he was responsible for it. For Rye’s wanton, abandoned behavior and desperate panting and moaning. This display of vulnerable list.

The other vampires moved in closer around them to get a better look. Some of them were already panting, licking their lips as they watched with acute interest. Rye rested his forehead on Williams’s knee, and turned to look for a moment, his eyes going wide and his cheeks flushed with embarassment. The other party guests were all in various states of arousal, and undress by now. One woman had slid the top of her dress down her shoulders so she could fondle her breasts. There was a lord with his hands down his pants, sipping on blood from his glass as he began to casually play with his cock.

Rye moaned, a truly wanton sound that echoed through the room. As he drew his eyes back, Williams watched the moment that he caught sight of himself in one of the gilded mirrored panels. The view was truly spectacular; he looked like an absolute whore, on his knees, humping his leg, his mouth open and begging. He looked up at his Masterm then, his eyes full of desperation and desire.

“Master,” he whispered, his voice breathless and small, like a child uttering a prayer. A small, needy noises seemed to get caught somewhere between his throat and his lips – little ‘ _Ah, ah’s_ and keening whines that made him sound like an animal in heat continuing that spill from him.

Williams was very much aware of all the eyes on them in that moment- eyes that were, as he had said they would be, _jealous._ He watched Rye fondly, watched him give himself up to the moment, in front of everyone’s watchful gaze. He was already palming his own erection as he watched him himself.

“Hmmm, do you want to get my cock ready for your ass?” He teased him, one hand in his hair, pulling him closer so that he was stooped over his leg. He purred to him, in a loud enough stage whisper that their little audience could hear, “Get my cock nice and wet with that pretty mouth of yours. Finger yourself open, and moan like the pretty little pet you are for _everyone_ to see.”

He smiled as he looked up at their audience, at everyone so captivated. Even Varissel was present, watching with an expression that almost looked bored… if it weren’t for the tenting in his pants. Williams had known Varissel long enough to know that the man was nothing if not good at masking his true thoughts. “Our host is watching, and I think we should give him a good show, as thanks for his hospitality.”

Rye’s fingers were already pulling at the fly of his pants, and easing his cock out before Williams had even finished speaking. He seemed so eager as he slid him into his mouth, taking him in as deep as he could, so quickly it made Williams grunt in satisfaction. Drool dripped down his chin, and he pulled off for a moment to wet his own fingers, before going back at it, moaning and bobbing his head. He reached behind himself with his spit slick fingers and started to finger himself. For a moment it seemed that he was having some trouble with the awkward angle, but he finally managed to get one finger inside, while keeping his Williams’s cock firmly in his mouth like such a good boy.

He moaned as he sank deeper into himself, fucking his hole to the same rhythm as he bobbed his head. He pushed down as far as he could go, and Williams was so proud to note that he was barely choking at all, so much improved from the first time he had attempted this. He laced his fingers through his hair and gave him one last pull to bottom out, sliding himself all the way to the back of his throat. He stayed still for a long second, and then let Rye gently pull back to slide off. It was only a split second before Rye leaned forward to do it again, and then again, over and over as his fingers slid in and out of his ass to the _‘oooo’s_ and _‘aaahh’s_ of the watchers.

Williams leaned against the table behind him and grunted, barely keeping himself together with such a perfect little thing between his legs. Rye’s mouth was breathtaking, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him. He stroked his cheek and pulled his hair, enjoying him, enjoying the power of having him like this as Rye looked up at him with those wide, adoring eyes of his. Rye was moaning and whimpering around his cock and their audience was started to croon along with him, groaning as they stroked themselves and each other. Finally after some time, Rye pulled his fingers out of himself with a desperate whimper, and then eased off Williams cock with a pleading look.

“I’m ready,” Rye was trembling, and panting. He wiped the drool from his chin, and sat back on his heels. “Please, Master, will you fuck my… My slutty hole now?” he begged. “It’s ready for your cock,” he told him, running his tongue over him, licking over his cock a few more times for emphasis. “I need it inside me,” he purred, his voice caught between a moan and a sob.

Williams grinned, and was immediately pulling Rye up into his lap, carefully spreading his legs. “Good boy…” he breathed, kissing and biting at his neck as he positioned his cock against his hole. There was simply no way that he could hold off from fucking him any longer. “Pull your legs up to your chest and spread them wide darling… let everyone get a good look….” He gave him a very gentle warning before he let him down, easing him right onto his cock without stopping, until he was sitting flush in his lap.

He took a moment to really savour the way that Rye had gasped and jolted as he’d felt it suddenly fill him, the way his body trembled against his and went taught. Then he began to thrust up into him. As Rye moaned, he growled and bit into his neck, loving the feel of him writing in his lap.

“Very pretty, Williams.” Varissel’s voice called out, and many others chimed in in agreement. “How long did it take you train him to be like that?” Many were echoing similar curiosities, murmuring at how good he looked like that, how pliant he was.

Williams chuckled. “Would you believe he fell into my arms like this? It was utterly irresistible.” He couldn’t have imagined he’d discover such a perfect little human, just ripe for the turning, and yet here he was, bouncing him in his lap on his cock for everyone to see.

And Rye, sweet sweet Rye, did as he was told, blushing and moaning as he pulled his knees towards his chest, keep his legs as far as he could, his cock lying hard against his stomach. His head lolled back against Williams’s shoulder, resting against him as he let himself be fucked like that, let himself be opened and exposed.

“Oh Gods,” he moaned. His chest was heaving, desperate to fill his lungs after each one of Williams’s thrusts stole the breath from them. _“Master –_ your cock! It feels so _good!”_ he wailed, his voice cracking as one of Williams’s thrusts was particularly hard, sinking deep into him and hilting against his prostate.

Williams watched the audience for a moment, all of them mesmerized by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Rye, and his tight hole taking it all without any resistance. Rye was bounced his hips a bit, begging with his body him to go faster, harder, more, more, _MORE._ His loud whimpering, keening noises were filling the room, propelling Williams even further. Williams was panting and gasping for breath as well, his hands on his hips squeezing him harder, clutching him in his lap.

Everyone was moaning now, breathy ‘ah’s and ‘oo’s filling the room, along with the slap of skin on skin. Rye had tears forming in his eyes, and spilling down his cheeks as he picked up his pace, making an effort to ride him well, bouncing himself up and down.

Williams was very much enjoying the show Rye was putting on. He felt so good, so tight and warm, and he was and so, _so_ very expressive. People continued touching themselves as they watched, enraptured by the display.

“Oh my, listen to him babble!” Someone gasped, and Williams heard someone else exclaim “Ooooh, I wish I had a sireling like that… _gorgeous…”_

“They think you’re beautiful now, pet, wait till they see you _cum…”_ He whispered into his ear as he fucked into him, hands holding his legs back and spread wide, forcing him to arch his back more and bouncing him up and down. “We’re going to cum together, and I want you to look at your audience as you do it. They want to see how spectacular you are. Come now… on my count… three.. Two… one…”

Rye shyly raised his gaze and looked out at the crowd for the first time, at everyone so enraptured, all of them excited, all of them touching themselves or each other, and even then all eyes on him.

“ _Master!”_ Rye screamed, his back arching into a perfect bow, his orgasm hitting him. Rye’s entire body went tight in his lap, and Williams felt his back arch and his legs shake as he came, as semen rushed from him and coated his own chest, face, and hair. His hips continued to tremble as his Williams fucked him through it, intent on wringing every last ounce of pleasure from him, he as his aching cock filled and stretched his hole over and over. Soon he watched Rye give another shudder, and gasp as a smaller spurt came from him, his body succumbing to another wave of orgasm in his arms.

  
  


  
Then he lay back, panting, his body collapsing against his own. Their little audience was panting as well, many of them finding their own heights of rapture either solo or with each other. Others were applauding them now, giving up a cheer and raising their glasses for the show they had just put on. Rye’s body still gently shook, his chest rising and falling and his face flushed, as he turned to cuddle into Williams’ chest. Williams smiled as he stroked his back, letting him nuzzle against him like a satisfied cat, relaxing and slowly coming down from his peak. Then Rye leaned his head up, and kissed his Williams’s jaw, a sloppy, sucking kiss, before leaning his head back down. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Williams chuckled patted his head. “You’re very welcome” He bent down over him to kiss his lips as he slipped out of him, claiming him amidst the cheers and applause. He let Rye lower his legs, and then slowly helped his dazed sireling up to his feet to pull his pants back on, stroking him affectionately all the while.

“Now, thank the guests as well…. The night is drawing to a close, and they all came to see you especially. And, of course, our host.” He gently spun him around to face the audience, like a stage performer giving a final bow.

The vampires laughed good naturedly, but it was playful and friendly. Many congratulating both of them for the turning, for the performance, for having found each other, or all of the above.

Rye was blushing again, and gave a dazed nod. He seemed like he was trying to speak for a few moments before his mind finally cleared enough to form words.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said, which elicited a few chuckles from the double entendre. Williams had to laugh at that as well. “It was wonderful to meet all of you,” he told the crowd. “And thank you Lord Varissel for your kindness and generosity. It was an evening I’ll never forget.” The audience applauded again, and he gave a small bow. Varissel smiled, as warmly as he ever did, and raised his glass in toast to him.

Williams then pulled him out of the crowd, gently leading him to a quieter corner of the room. Since Rye was still so blissed out, and tired after a very long evening, he sat him down, putting him in a chair and rubbing his shoulders a little as he leaned in close. “You stay here for a moment, darling, and rest. I’ll be right back… I’m just going to say our goodnights.” He pressed a kiss to his brow before pulling away and drifting towards the line of guests trickling out, some to guest rooms in the manor and others to their own homes in town. All that was left was the more tedious part of the evening, which was admittedly dull, of saying their good evenings before retiring for dawn.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes things go horribly wrong

Rye was relaxing, watching his Master move about the room, when he felt a presence next to him. He looked up into Phillip’s smirking face, and he had to bite down on his own irritation.

“That was quiiiite the show you put on,” Phillip said. “He teach you to do that? Or did you come like that?” he asked, as he swirled a glass of blood in his hand like it was wine.

Rye stifled a small yawn, and fought not glare at the other vampire. He was feeling good, and didn’t want Phillip ruining it. Still, it wouldn’t do to be rude.

“I’m just like that apparently,” he said, blushing and looking away. He didn’t know why, but Phillip’s tone was bothering him. There was something judgemental in it. “Did you not enjoy yourself?” Rye asked, trying to keep his tone even. Phillip seemed to have a chip on his shoulder and Rye wasn’t interested in indulging him too much.  
  
“Of course, I enjoyed myself very much. It looked like you did as well. I apologize, I don’t mean to intrude and I’m sure you’re quite tired. You probably picked up that your Master and I don’t exactly like each other very much, but that doesn’t mean there needs to be bad blood between you and I. Here,” he extended the glass towards him. “You probably could benefit from a sip or two after all of that” 

Rye could smell the blood wafting from the glass. Maybe if he was older and more experienced at holding back he might have said no. Then again, maybe Phillip was trying to be nice or make amends with his Master. Besides, he didn’t want to make things worse, and he was so very hungry. The blood was tantalizing and there was no way he could deny himself after such a long night.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, offering Phillip a genuine smile, and graciously accepting the glass. He took a sip, the flavour of blood splashing over his tongue, sweet and tangy. It was so good, and he was so tired and hungry that he downed the entire thing. He pulled away from the glass, and felt a wave of exhaustion – not surprising since he had just had a mind blowing orgasm. The dizziness though, and the heaviness in his limbs was unexpected.

“Um -” he tried to speak but his mouth felt dry, his tongue thick, and sticking to the roof of his mouth. His thoughts were slurring together, and he dropped his glass, only for Phillip to catch it, and place it on a small side table. Rye’s body wasn’t listening to him, and he felt a small spike of panic as he fell against Phillip’s side.

“Wha’ wassin tha’?” he tried to ask but his mouth didn’t want to work either. His eyes scanned the room, his mind screaming for his Master, who was far away and talking with a throng of people. He could barely even see him through the crowd. His arms went limp, and he could no longer move himself, even his eyes refusing to obey him. He was terrified.  
  
“Ohh, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Phillip patted him on the shoulder, and then for a moment the world started to spin and fade, images blurring into themselves until finally reality recalibrated into something new, and different. The air was colder here, damp, and the smell was different.  
  
Phillip grinned down at Rye, only his arms around him keeping him upright. “Don’t take this personal…. You just had the misfortune of being _his_ sireling, that’s all.” Phillip stooped over him, picking him up, Rye hanging limp in his arms like a ragdoll and proceeded through the halls of a dark and dismal castle that looked nothing like any architecture anywhere near where they had previously been.

Rye was scared. With just a touch, Phillip had moved them from where they were to some place dark and foreboding – someplace his Master wasn’t. Everything in him wanted to rip out Phillips throat, tear and bite and scratch, his claws and teeth taking him apart until nothing remained.

Instead he was trapped in his body, his mind the only part of him still working, if barely. Exhaustion was tugging at him, and it was getting closer to dawn. Phillip brought him into the forlorn castle, the air cold, with a wicked wind, and the scent of frost in the air. Rye was trying to figure out where they were, and while he was certain it was up north, he had never been anywhere like this before.

He was carried down a flight of stairs, into the dark. The air was even colder somehow, despite being inside. Rye could do nothing to stop the slow descent. Down, down, down they went, no light to guide them. Rye could see in the dark, but all there was to see were the stones that made up the walls. Finally, after what felt like eons, they reached the bottom. 

Phillip laid him down into a coffin in a small room, with manacles attached to the corners. He took his time locking his hands and feet into them, humming a little to himself as he worked. “Really, you’re just collateral damage. Williams is going to be quite angry with me I’m sure… he did seem _rather_ fond of you after all… which I certainly hope, because I’m going to use you to lure him to his death! A plan which absolutely won’t work if he was just pretending to care for you…. But don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll turn up, and then I’ll kill him, and you can go back to being mortal again.” He leaned over him for a moment, frowning as though he had just considered something.  
  
“Unless you don’t want to be mortal again, in which case I can just turn you myself! You really are quite a pretty sireling, after all. I wouldn’t mind.” Phillip watched him, probably hoping to get a rise out of him despite the sleepiness of the drug.

Rye was trying to glare, but his eyes could only stare straight ahead it seemed. He wasn’t worried about his Master. He would come and rescue Rye, and kill Phillip for it, of that he was certain. Maybe if he was lucky Rye would get his wish and actually get the pleasure of tearing out the vampire’s throat with his teeth.

He could feel the drug still working to pull him under, and it did eventually overcome him. His eyes closed and soon he was asleep. He just prayed that his Master found them soon.

Rye’s eyes began to flutter as he woke up, and there was Phillip, grinning as he grabbed him by the jaw, forcing his mouth open. “Good morning, Rye. Just relax.” Despite any struggle Rye might make, he poured more of the drug, this time on its own without being hidden within a glass of blood, down his throat. Phillip held him down until his struggling stopped, the drug working on him to keep him unable to move. He noticed right away that this one was a bit different. He didn’t feel sleepy, and was much more alert, even if his body wouldn’t cooperate.  
  
“We’re going to have some fun together while we wait for your Master!” Phillip said, his grin turning even sharper.

Rye wanted to curse him as the bitter drug took hold of his body. He could just barely twitch his fingers, if he concentrated. He wondered if his mouth still worked?

“Ffuuck youuu,” Rye slurred, all the venom gone from the words due to how little control he had. “Lemmee go,” he added, for good measure.

He wondered if he could control blood without using his hands, but he had never tried, and even just keeping his thoughts calm enough was a trial and a half. Hells, it was hard even just keeping his mouth closed, his jaw dropping open to allow drool to slide down his chin. Gods he hoped Phillip died a painful death.

  
Phillips shook his head, wagging a finger at him. “Now now now now, none of that, or I’ll have to gag that pretty mouth of yours. You don’t need to worry about things like talking or thinking. All you have to do is sit pretty and take what I want to give you.” He smiled and set about uncuffing him from the coffin and then lifting him up out of it, once again carrying him through the stone dungeons. Rye tried to get his body to move, but it was no use. All he could do was let Phillip move him where he wanted him.  
  
Eventually they came to a room that looked like an elaborate bedroom, dark but lavishly furnished. Phillip set Rye down on the bed, and began stripping his clothes off of him, setting them neatly aside and then rummaging around in a dresser drawer for something. Rye felt his insides turning as he contemplated what exactly it was Phillip had planned for him. Phillip smiled as he turned around holding up a black corset. “Hmm, this looks like it will fit you well… what do you think? Hmm?” he laughed and returned to the bedside. “Not that you didn’t look stunning in the last outfit, but, well.” He began to set about pulling the corset around his waist, sucking it in tight.

Rye could feel himself blushing as Phillip fitted him with the corset. It hugged his body even tighter than his outfit from the night before, and he cinched it so tightly that it was verging on painful. He tried looking around the room, but his head wouldn’t move. All he could see was the bed, and the door – so close to an exit yet so far.

Rye wished he could struggle more, but had to settle for slurring his words at him instead.

“Whyyyy d’youuu ‘ate my Massster?” he asked hoping it was clear enough to understand. “Why’re youuuu doin’ thissss?” he asked.  
  
  
“Aw, now I said no talking. But if you must know, he’s been a thorn in my side for centuries. That little city you’re from was supposed to be _my_ territory. But it’s just one more thing Williams has taken from me, lorded over me. I’ve been waiting to get my next revenge for decades. You were a convenient happenstance. And, I’m not above having a bit of fun with these sorts of things.” He said that last bit cheerily , smiling as he picked Rye up and carried him to a plush looking chair.  
  
“Hmmm, now, how to arrange you… You make a pretty doll. I know! You looked so perfect last night, let’s see if we can recreate that, hm?” He busied himself manhandling Rye into position, pulling up his legs, spreading them, putting them where he wanted them, until he was sitting with them up and spread eagle, just like they had been last night getting fucked by his Master. His arms he placed on the arms of the chair, and then he stepped back to admire him. Rye didn’t like the turn this was taking, and he hoped that Phillip wasn’t planning on touching him more than he already had. He was defenceless, and in such a vulnerable position.  
  
“Makes such a nice picture. I really do see why he likes you.” 

Rye wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove his thoughts and opinions, but kept it to himself. The anxiety of what Phillip might do was building inside him as Phillip’s hungry eyes roved over his body. He could feel his emotions fighting their way to the surface, but he didn’t want to cry in front of him, not if he could help it.

It would be fine though, he told himself. His Master would get there eventually to save him. No matter what happened, Rye just needed to endure until his Master got there. He levelled a glare at Phillip as best he could. At least the chair supported his head somewhat, so he could more or less see what was happening in front of him.  
  
He watched as Phillip turned to open a desk drawer, rummaging around until finally he withdrew a hammer and a small box that clinked when he walked towards him. There was a truly wicked smile on his face now. “Now, the fun starts. Are you ready? I know I am.”  
  
He withdrew a nail from the box, and Rye’s mind shuddered. He watched in horror as he slowly positioned the point above Rye’s right hand. He took his time, watching Rye carefully all the while. Watching his eyes, waiting to see him try and fail to pull away. Then, after he drew the moment out cruelly long, he pounded the nail through his hand and straight into the arm of the chair. Before even pausing, he was already taking out another, and positioning it about halfway between his hand and his elbow. 

While Rye couldn’t move, he could certainly scream, and he did. The only time he had felt pain like that was when he took a bullet to his shoulder when he was a teen. The agony was unbearable, and tears streamed down his face as he tried to remember how to breathe. He wished he would just pass out but his body wouldn’t let him. It tried to heal and somewhat failed – it would leave a hole there for sure. He was whimpering like an injured dog.

 _Endure_. He told himself that over and over. He needed to make it. He refused to die at the hands of this bastard. _Endure, endure, endure._ It became a mantra. He slowly managed to calm himself enough to at least stop crying, but Gods his arms hurt. The holes burned like fire.  
  
  
Phillip smiled, looking far too pleased. It was an awful torture… It didn’t matter what he did, Rye couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything about any of it. He took his time showing Rye each nail before he pounded it into him, until finally he was completely nailed to the chair.  
  
“See? Wasn’t that _fun?_ ” He stroked Rye’s hair and watched him, considering him carefully. There were tears streaming down Rye’s face and drool wetting his chin. He didn’t want to look at him, or see his horrible smug face for a second longer. He looked down instead, away from him. That was why he saw him as he undid his pants, pulling out his already hard cock, sighing happily as he got closer to him. “Let’s have some more fun.”

The things Rye would give to be able to close his mouth, or better yet, bite Phillip’s cock clean off. Instead Phillip grabbed him by the hair, and slid his cock into his open mouth, sighing with delight as he buried himself inside of Rye. Rye was still in pain, and unable to go anywhere thanks to the nails keeping him in place. The only part of him that was adjustable was his head. Phillip tilted it and then started to fuck his face.

Rye was reminded of that first night with his Master long before he had been turned, when they had just met, and he couldn’t suppress his gag reflex. Now he didn’t have to try, with the drug in him. This was nothing like that night though, where Rye had wanted his Master so badly. Phillip was even more brutal, fucking Rye’s mouth at a painful speed. Drool was getting everywhere, dripping down his chin and onto his chest. He tried to focus on anything else but what was happening, but there was something about being used that his body craved, and despite what he wanted, his cock was getting hard. He cursed his sensitive body.  
  
Phillip moaned, groaning and panting as he fucked into Rye’s mouth, holding his head in whatever angle he needed. Rye let out a pained gurgle, and Phillip sighed, humping his face and pushing on his legs just to make him wince even more.  
  
“Fuck yes… You’re getting hard, too, you little slut. Shit, it’s no wonder that Williams couldn’t resist turning you, you’re perfect. He can’t have you… ahh… I’ve decided… you’re going to be mine, instead… Oh, fuck..” He panted, his nails digging into Rye’s skin, and then he shouted, pulling him forward and burying his cock all the way down his throat as he came. Rye couldn’t stop the tears. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to be Phillip’s. Only his Master could have him.  
  
When Phillip pulled out, he gave a happy sigh, tucking himself back into his pants. “Don’t worry…” he breathed, petting him and tucking his hair out of his face. “I’ll get you off, too. I’m not a _complete_ monster.” He smiled as he wrapped a hand around Rye’s cock and started to pump.

Rye had almost choked when Phillip came, swallowing a challenge that he barely won. He was panting, his tongue slipping out of his mouth, when he felt fingers wrap around his aching cock. Rye didn’t want him to touch him, but as soon as he did, a small moan escaped his open mouth. Each stroke of his cock was jostling his body ever so slightly, sending pain shooting through him where each nail connected, turning his moans into whimpers.

Drool dripped down his chin, and off his lolling tongue and onto his chest. What he wouldn’t give to be able to close his damn mouth. Phillip, he had to admit, was good with his hands, and soon his cock was dripping precum onto his deft fingers. Rye whined, wanting to cum so he would go away, but he couldn’t seem to get there. His cock was painfully hard, his balls tight against his body, ready to cum, but no matter what Phillip did, he simply couldn’t.

Not for the first time, Rye wished his Master would come rescue him. Phillip seemed determined to make him cum however, and refused to let up.

“Sssstop, i’s no’ workin,” Rye whined, his cock getting sensitive and sore as Phillip’s strokes became more aggressive.  
  
Phillip growled in annoyance the longer it was taking.  
  
“Hurry up and fucking cum already” he growled at him, glaring at Rye, as if he was holding back to spite him. Gods, he wished that was the case. He kept trying, and the time stretched out until Rye’s cock was getting soft in his hand again, and it was red and irritated from the constant friction and stimulation.

Then Phillip’s face changed, as if something just occurred to him, and then he was angry all over again.  
  
“That fucking bastard! He’s made it so you can only get off with him! Oh, I’m gonna kill him.” He cursed, slamming a fist into the wall in frustration. “Has to have everything, doesn’t he, has to just make everything _his_. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He kicked the chair for good measure, and Rye cried out as it sent a wave a pain through him. Finally he seemed to calm down, but Rye was scared something else would set him off, and he’d try and hurt him even more.  
  
“Well. Fine. Sorry I won’t be able to show you too good of a time… you can thank your Master for that nasty little trick.” He softened suddenly, petting his hair, and that wasn’t comforting at all. Rye wanted to shrink away from him, but couldn’t.. “Ah well. I think I’ll keep you trussed up like this though. A pretty doll for the rest of the night… I’ll put you back in your box before bed.”

Rye was having a hard time keeping his tears back. It wasn’t even the pain. No, he missed his Master. He hated this place, and he hated Phillip. He was left in the chair for hours, and he could feel his body heal around the nails, making holes that would last forever. That was what finally broke him down into sobbing. He didn’t want anyone’s marks on him except for his Master’s. It made him feel awful, and he couldn’t even do anything to fix it because the drug kept him limp and loose. He needed to stay awake but he doubted that Phillip would allow that. If he could just stay awake long enough to gain control of his body maybe he could use one of his powers to free himself.

  
  


  
Rye comforted himself with the knowledge that his Master would come for him, and that even if he couldn’t escape, he would be rescued.  
  
Rye awoke the next night to Phillip opening the coffin he had put him in, and forcing more of the drug down his throat. Rye tried to glare, but PHillip just winked at him as he pulled him out of the box again, carrying him away and setting him down on the bed. Rye was sprawled limply over it, and Phillip tilted his head as though considering something.  
  
“What should we do today… Hmmmm..” He let a hand trail over Rye’s naked body, touching and feeling him up. “It really is a shame Williams had to go and carve his initial into you, really ruins the fun…. Ah! I know!” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll just carve it up! Now let’s see.. What should I use…” He turned aside to the desk drawers, rifling through them to find the perfect impliment for the job.

Rye was going to kill him. That was _His Master’s Mark_ , and he would not have it taken from him. He put all his effort into getting something, anything to move on his body, trying to use his blood controlling power to make something move. The best he managed was his lips to form a very angry ‘NO’.

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed, forcing his mouth to move. It took all his strength and as soon as the words left his mouth he fell back panting, mouth once more hanging open. Gods, he hated Phillip! His Master needed to show up soon, or Rye would be very upset. He didn’t want to lose his Master’s precious mark on his body. He was sure his Master would give him a new one, but that wasn’t the point! This one was important to him, and if Phillip damaged it he would find a way to kill him, even if it took eternity to do so. Hot, angry tears formed in his eyes, his fangs out. If he could move his mouth eventually he’d move something else. He could be a very patient man.

Phillip only laughed at him as he approached with a knife in hand. “Or you’ll what? Glare at me some more? It’s so cute, you baring your fangs at me like that, when you and I both know you can’t do anything to stop me… anything at all.” He got closer to him, closer, bending over him and putting the tip of the blade right over the W.  
  
“How about if I slash _right through it?_ Ready?” He had a wicked gleam in his eyes, almost hesitating to draw it out longer. He let Rye squirm, let him really contemplate what was about to happen, and then he put the tip of the blade to his skin, about to start cutting…  
  
When there was a loud crash, a flurry of motion, and a great wind swept into the room knocking things about. Phillip’s eyes went wide as his hand stopped where it was, and then was wrenched back, by some unseen force, and he turned to see an angry Varissel with his hand out, and a mist sweeping quickly into the room, coalescing into the form of his Master.


	19. Chapter 19

Williams was angry. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even been this angry… he had been annoyed at the situation in his cities with the lowlife vampires, but _this… this_ was unbridled _rage_. He was a feral thing, snarling, and all fangs and claws as he leapt at Phillip.

When he’d discovered that Rye was missing, he had gone on a tear. He had been gone for only mere moments, but moments had been enough. How could he have been so stupid? The second he sensed the residue of Phillips’s teleportation magic he knew what had happened, and his skin had turned to ice. He’d known Phillips was around. He should have been more careful. And he didn’t have teleportation spells, that was not in his own repertoire.

“We’ll fly after him.” Varissel told him, his own voice cold, anger simmering underneath the surface of his words.

“That will expend a lot of energy. And it won’t get us there until tomorrow night, assuming he’s taken him back to his own mansion. It’s days travel by traditional means.” He snarled, his throat tight and his hands clenched. Still, he knew that it was all he could do, and he cursed himself for it.

“We had better get started.” Varissel had his hand on his shoulder. Williams looked at his friend with pain and anger in his eyes and saw the same emotions reflected back. He didn’t even doubt that his friend would come with him; it hadn’t even been a question. Without a word both of their forms melted into a swarm of ethereal bats, shifting and transferring their consciousness among the unreal creatures.

They flew. They flew until dawn was breaking and only landed to find an underground cavern to spend the night in, right before the sun came up and would have killed them. They moved silently, no speaking, only the shared companionship of a common goal hanging between them. When the sun went down they took flight again. It was excruciatingly tiring, and expended far more power than Williams usually used at once, but it was effective. They made it to the far distant little town that Phillips ruled over, and there was his mansion, sitting at the top of a large cliff face. Williams could feel the anger deep in his chest, like a fiery ember that just smouldered.

They crashed into the room, their forms coalescing in the room in a flurry of movement, both of their eyes blazing. Varissel manipulated the blood in Phillips, and soon it oozed out his eyes and halted his motions. Phillips was strong, and was able to fight off his power, to resist him, but he was only able to do so much. His movements were slow and jerky as he turned to fight them off.

“I didn’t think _you’d_ come, Varissel.” He panted as he fought off Williams, who was in the process of leaping towards him with claws out at his throat.

“If you thought you could steal away a guest from my home without my taking slight, you were very wrong.”

“What have you done to him?” William demanded between snarls.

“Oh you’re both so dramatic. It’s just a sireling.” Phillips scoffed in between ducks and weaves. His own claws were out, and he was teleporting around the room to avoid them, but he was sluggish as Varissel worked to keep him in place.

Williams looked to see Rye, only halfway conscious on the bed, and his rage seemed to catch, mirroring in Rye’s eyes. He watched as Rye struggled to move his fingers, just his fingers, flicking them outwards, and to his amazement, the motion suddenly sent Phillips stumbling. Rye was manipulating his blood! This was far greater a proficiency with the power than he should have already. It was remarkable!

Williams felt a wave of pride wash over him as he watched Rye struggling to use his ability, the one he had inherited under the strangest of circumstances from Varissel’s sireling. The ability that Varissel was also wielding even now. He was amazed to see him working through both the pain of what had been done to him and whatever drugs were in his system to clench his fist. When he did so, Phillips’s knee suddenly twisted, making his leg collapse beneath him with a sickening crunch as he cried out in pain. Rye hissed in victory. “I did tell you not to touch me,” Rye snarled, baring his fangs.

Varissel both looked in surprise at Rye as well, but they didn’t stall for long. Phillip continued trying to evade them by teleporting around the room, but Williams became mist to trap him and between Varissel and Rye, his body slowly stopped working the way he wanted it to. There was a continued crunch of bones breaking, his legs crumbling beneath him, and finally Williams’ boot heel was pressing down into his back.

He wrenched his arms back so hard they broke as well, and Phillip screamed bloody murder as he tied them in place. “You took things too far this time. This time, I’m going to kill you.” He was panting, and ground out the words through clenched teeth.

  
  


“Over a bloody _sireling??”_ Phillips shouted, also breathing heavily, and snarling at every jerk of his arms.

“He’s _special.”_ Williams kicked him in the face for good measure, enjoying the sounds of Phillips’s screams, and passed him to Varissel’s waiting hands as he went to see Rye. “Rye. Gods, your power is-” He shook his head, feeling the tension releasing from his body as he desperately helped him to sit up on the bed. “Well, nevermind that for now. Are you alright? How badly did he hurt you?”

“He’s creative if nothing else,” Rye ground out. He was looking down at the holes left in his arms and legs. The wounds were healed over, not bleeding, though Williams shuddered to think what had caused them. They were surreal to look at, perfect little windows through his flesh. He was trembling. “He drugged me,” Rye’s voice sounded far away, amazed, like he couldn’t believe it was real. “And nailed me to a chair.”

“He was going to try to erase your mark,” he whimpered, and then the tears began to well up in his eyes. It made something in Williams’s heart lurch in a way he hadn’t felt for millennia. “Master – I knew you would come. I knew.” Williams’ face darkened the more Rye spoke, his fangs barring, his fists twitching. Rye fell forward, collapsing into Williams, who immediately swept him up in his arms for a tight, rough hug, squeezing him close to himself. _“I knew,”_ Rye whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Oh _gods_ Rye I’m so sorry… This will never happen, ever, _ever_ again. I will never let you out of my sight again, not for centuries. Fucking hell. I have you now, I have you.” He stroked his hair, shaking as he kept him close.

Finally after a few moments of this, he gently set Rye down again, avoiding looking at the holes in his body. He would have to do something about those later, but for now he had more pressing matters to attend to.

He glanced around the room for a moment before picking up the hammer and the nails. “You’re going to regret this whole plot.” He walked over to Phillip slowly, before grabbing him by the neck. Varissel helped hold him in place, a grim and unreadable expression set on his face. Phillips looked at him with very real fear in his eyes, and he basked in it for a moment before he began to drive nails into him in the same places he’d nailed Rye. The room began to fill with his screams.

“He keeps the drugs over there,” Rye pipped up after a moment, gesturing to a cabinet at the side of the room. Williams smiled a nasty, unkind smile as he patted his head on the way over to it, curious to look through it’s contents. Phillips sobbed, pleading for him to stop, but he ignored him.

“Though I do like watching him squirming about like that,” Rye continued. Williams could feel the anger and the hatred that wafted out of Rye’s aura. He was carefully keeping his tone neutral, but Williams specialized in mind powers. He knew that inside he was living for each one of his agonized screams, every twitch of his nailed down body, and he was glad to give him all of the revenge he could. Glad to feed his blood lust.

A wicked thought occurred to Williams as he held one of the vials of poison in his hand. He glanced back at Phillips, at his body that he had now riddled with nails. He wasn’t nailed down _to_ anything, just had nails all through his broken form. He turned and shot a sweet smile to Rye. “Oh, darling, this gives me a _delicious_ idea.”

He took the bottle of the liquid, and grabbed Phillip by the throat, who tried to fight him off but could hardly move. He forced the entire bottle down his throat, regardless that when he’d drugged Rye a few mouthfuls had lasted for a whole night. “That’s it, every last drop Phillip, there you go.” Phillip whimpered weakly as the drug started to kick in, his body going limp and slack in Varissel’s arms.

“Now, I wasn’t sure how I was going to kill you yet, but Rye just gave me a wonderful idea. I’m going to leave you outside like this, Phillip. You’ll get to watch the sunrise.” He patted his cheeks a few times before he picked him up, blood and nails and all.

“Varissel, would you be a dear and bring Rye? I want to get out of this godsforsaken place as quickly as possible.” And then he started walking through the castle.

Varisel took Rye by the arm, helped him to his feet and gently led him up the stairs, letting him lean on him when his legs began to shake. Rye hadn’t eaten anything since the party, and it seemed as though his body was giving out, even if the drug was wearing out. He had been through a lot, and used vampiric power to add to it.

When they got outside, Williams set the gurgling Phillips down, laying him out artfully beneath the open sky. He would be out there all night, knowing he would die, and unable to do anything about it. He didn’t even bother to gloat further. All he needed was the look of utter despair in Phillips’s eyes. He walked over to Varissel then, and gathered Rye up into his arms. Rye fell into him again, clinging to him. “Master,” was all he said as he nuzzled into him.

Williams smiled and pressed a kiss to his head, holding him tight. “I’m so glad you’re alright… I feel sick thinking that something worse might have happened to you if I had gotten here later. I only wish I had gotten here sooner.” he sighed, looking at the holes in his arms, already thinking now of what to do about it.

“If I may, Williams,” Varissel interjected. “There was a human in there, looked half drank. And Rye looks like he needs blood.”

“Yes, of course.” He gently guided Rye back into the manor. “You need to feed, and then we can be on our way.”

The girl was easy to find, stumbling about the house in a daze. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards Rye, presenting her wrist to him.

“I don’t know if I can hold back. Stop me if I go too far please?” Rye pleaded for a moment, before he took her wrist and bit into her, letting her blood wash the toxins out of his body. Williams shook his head, amazed that after all this, Rye was still concerned with killing the poor girl. He sighed. He should really just let him kill her; the girl was probably going to die anyways, and Phillips certainly hadn’t been planning on her surviving for long. And he did want to get Rye used to killing humans, but… that was a delicate bridge to cross, and perhaps directly after such a traumatic experience was not wise. Still, he needed more blood than she could safely give him, which meant Rye wouldn’t recover as much of his strength from this as he’d like. He’d have to make sure he got more the next night.

Right as she was about to cross the threshhold into death, he stopped him. “That’s enough Rye. We’ll get you more tomorrow night.” The girl sank to the ground as she was released, and the three vampires made their way to the carriage that Varissel had waiting for them. There were coffins ready, and a human servant prepared to begin their journey home.

“In you get… it’s been a long night.”


	20. Chapter 20

Rye had felt his heart soaring when his Master burst in with Lord Varissel, all the fear and anger leaving him in a rush. He was going to be okay. His Master was there to save him, he had come for him, just as he knew he would. It was amazing, the way he moved through the room, attacking Phillip, Lord Varissel holding him with his powers. Rye could see though that they were struggling to hold him, as Phillip teleported around the room. He felt all the anger from the last few days gathering inside him again. All he had to do was move a finger, and he could help. Rye’s fingers twitched, and he almost cheered as he flicked them, sending Phillip stumbling as he manipulated his blood. 

He could feel the drug moving in his system, fighting him, but that meant he could tell it apart from his own blood. He wouldn’t be able to seperate it all, but if he could give himself enough clean blood that he could help he would be happy. He was panting by the time he freed enough of his blood from the drug to move, but he wasn’t giving up – not by any stretch of the imagination. He clenched his fist and Phillip’s knee twisted, making his leg collapse beneath him, and Rye hissed in victory. Phillip turned to glare at him in surprise.

“I did tell you not to touch me,” Rye snarled, baring his fangs.

Phillip didn’t stand a chance after that. Rye watched with a sick sense of satisfaction as the vampire was tortured, just as he was. He didn’t know what that said about him, and he no longer cared. 

“He keeps the drugs over there,” Rye helpfully pointed out, gesturing to a cabinet that he had watched Phillip go to for his tools. He had spotted the bottles amongst his torture devices, making mental notes as he dreamed of all the hurt he would give him. Somehow this was even better than anything he had thought up. “Though I do like watching him squirming about like that,” he added. He kept his tone neutral but inside he was living for each one of his agonized screams, every twitch of his tortured body. They were a balm to his soul.

Phillip was snarling and hissing, between screams. Good, Rye thought. Let him struggle, and fail just as Rye had. It was no less than he deserved. At some point Rye realized he was shaking, and slid off the bed and onto the cold, stone floor of the dungeon, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Oh, darling, that gives me a delicious idea,” his Master said.  
  
Rye watched as his Master took a bottle, one of the foul potions, and grabbed Phillip by the throat. Phillip tried to fight him off but he was weak after all the fighting and torture. His Master forced the entire bottle down his throat. Rye knew that was more than what was necessary to incapacitate him. “That’s it, every last drop Phillip, there you go.” Phillip whimpered and Rye could only grin.  
  
“Now, I wasn’t sure how I was going to kill you yet, but Rye just gave me a wonderful idea. I’m going to leave you outside like this, Phillip. You’ll get to watch the sunrise,” his Master said. He patted Phillip’s cheek a few times before picking him up to take him up the stairs and outside. He turned to Lord Varissel, and asked him to help Rye out of that miserable place.

Rye wasn’t entirely certain what happened to vampires in sunlight, but he knew it would kill them. Good, a vicious part of him thought. Varisell took him by the arm, and gently led him up the stairs, helping him when his legs began to shake. He hadn’t eaten anything since the party, and he hadn’t had much that night at all. He leaned into Varissel, while doing his best to remain upright, and by the time they got up the stairs he was about ready to pass out.

He watched as his Master arranged Phillip, and Rye felt the anger leave him. He understood better than anyone the horror that awaited him in the next few hours, knowing he would die, and that there was nothing he could do to stop it. Rye didn’t think there was anyone who would be coming to save Phillip, and for a brief, flickering moment, he pitied him.

As soon as his Master had finished with Phillip, he came over and pulled Rye into his arms. His scent flooded Rye, and he felt his whole being shudder, knowing he was finally free and safe, and once more where he belonged; in his Master’s arms. “Master,” was all he managed to say as he nuzzled into him, overjoyed to be together once more, hoping to never leave him again.

Rye fed after that, on some poor girl Phillip had likely kidnapped. He didn’t want to kill her, even though he had a feeling she wasn’t going to make it regardless. She had a terrible gash from where Phillip had already drank from her. Rye almost wanted to refuse, but he was so hungry. He bit down on her wrist, and drank until his Master told him to stop.

There was a carriage waiting for them, and inside there were coffins. His Master helped him into one, and Rye held out his arms for him like a lost child. He didn’t want to sleep alone. All he could think about was waking up alone in Phillip’s manor only to have drugs forced down his throat. He felt a wave of panic, right before his Master climbed in next to him. He melted into his touch, the fear leaving him in an instant. He buried his face in his Master’s chest, breathing in the scent of him again, letting it soothe him and chase away the nightmares. Varissel closed the lid for them, and before the carriage was even off and moving, Rye was asleep.

It took some time getting home after all of that, and they couldn’t simply teleport like Phillip had. His Master made sure to take Rye hunting on the regular, getting him meals as often as possible. He was so gentle and sweet to him, that Rye could almost forget the horrors of what Phillip did to him…if not for the accursed holes in his body. Rye did end up having nightmares about it, but his Master was always there to comfort him. 

Rye awoke one night, and he knew they were at their destination – his Master’s home. There were so many new smells, and sounds, and it was a bit disorienting, but then the whole trip back had been a bit like that, waking in a new place every night. Rye sat up, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and his Master was talking with someone, a vampire.  
  
“Welcome home, Master. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you have new commands?” the vampire asked.  
  
“Is there anything I should be aware of in my absence?” his Master asked in return.  
  
“No. Everything has calmed down… the Deputy managed to capture the remaining sirelings of the vampire you were tracking, and our operatives had them staked in the daylight. He’s been made Sheriff, now, of course.” the vampire raised a brow at the sight of Rye, who of course he recognized as the former Sheriff. Rye felt himself blush, wanting nothing more than to hide behind his Master’s big, strong back.  
  
“Very good. I’m going to get settled. I’ll send for you if there is anything more,” his Master said.

Rye waited for the vampire to leave before looking around. Was this really where he would live? It looked exactly like he thought it should. The manor was regal, and masculine, with an air of power, and, had he been human and not known his Master, a certain degree of intimidation.

There were so many vampires there – he could feel them. None of them were as strong as his Master though, or any of the vampires he had met at the party. Still, he found himself clinging to his Master, feeling nervous. Despite the time away from Phillip, his mind still expected an attack at any moment. He was glad he had long sleeves though, as they hid most of the awful holes in his body, only the ones on his hands were visible.

A part of him recognized that they were within range of his old home, of his old friends – if one could call them that. It was strange, but he held little attachment to the place. His only attachment now was his Master. He would go wherever he went, even into eternal slumber. He looked around, and was surprised such a large building had gone completely undetected, but then, vampires often used magic as he had learned. It was likely shielded from prying eyes, just as Lord Varissel’s manor had been.  
  
His Master spent the first evening getting Rye settled in the manor, showing him around and introducing him to his principle servants and sirelings. He gave Rye full permission to go anywhere he liked and do anything he liked, but Rye had no interest in exploring, wanting to be with his Master. Rye could feel the way the others looked at him when they walked the halls together. The vampires didn’t seem to look as much, but he often found when he looked about that there were angry eyes staring at him. He wondered if maybe he was just overly paranoid since his kidnapping, but it was hard to shake.  
  
The second day back Rye awoke in his Master’s arms once more, to find him running a thumb over the hole in his palm. Rye tried to pull away, but his Master held him firm.  
  
“Rye. I can do something about these, if you like. I can fix them… but, it will hurt. Do you want me to?” his Master asked, surprising him. Rye’s eyes filled with tears.

“Yes, please, I want that more than anything right now,” Rye said, trying and failing to hold back his emotions. He didn’t care if it hurt, if it was a thousand or a million times worse than the initial injury, as long as he never had to see or think about them again. He hated those marks. They made him feel…wrong, bad – like spoiled food. There was a rot in him that only his Master could fix. “I hate these marks,” he hissed. “I wasn’t _his_ to mark,” he snarled, the words angry and full of venom for the vampire that had almost ruined everything.

His Master nodded, and helped him up to his feet. “Very well… come with me, and I shall turn them into new marks… _my_ marks.” Rye nodded, clinging to his arm as they walked down the hall, moving down into the underground of the manor.  
  
“Doubtless you know a bit about the obsidian mined just out of town…” his Master spoke to him as they walked. “I’ve been here for centuries, and I had a hand in the establishment of this city. It’s always been mine, from the shadows… doubtless a fact you wouldn’t have liked to know back when you were Sheriff.” Rye smiled at the light teasing as he led the way into a wide room with a furnace in the center, and sat him down in a chair a little ways away from it.  
  
“Anyhow, the obsidian is something of a trademark of mine.. It’s rather lucrative, and it’s been an asset in a lot of my business investments. Vampires across the country know it as mine when they see it. Many things can be made from it.” He took his hand again, once again inspecting the hole in it. “In liquid form it can fit any mold… and it hardens more solid than steel. It’s quite pretty, as well. I’m going to fill these with it, if it pleases you.”

Rye’s breath caught at the idea. He could picture it so clearly, little, shiny black marks of obsidian all over his body. He felt a little light headed with desire. It would look so good, and burn away all the bad that had been done to him. He threw his arms around his Master.

“Yes, it would please me to no end,” he said, beaming at him.

He had no doubt it would hurt – the worst pain he had ever experienced – yet he wanted it, needed it even. Pain he could endure, and for his Master he would endure it all. He felt a relief at knowing his emotional pain would come to an end, that he could stop thinking about that horrible time in Phillip’s castle.

“Thank you Master. You’re always taking care of me,” he purred, nuzzling in against him. “I know it will hurt…but then I will be free, and full of your love,” he said, dreaming about how wondrous it would look after, how anyone would be able to see his Master’s affection in his very skin. He was looking forward to the end results. The actual process was going to be hell, but that was temporary, and his Master’s love was eternal.  
  
His Master smiled and ruffled his hair. “Alright, my love. Lay your hand there on the table, palm facing up.” Rye watched as he turned towards the furnace, and drew out from it an instrument that held a bowl with a spout attached to a long stick. The metal was so hot that it had turned white, and inside of the bowl was the obsidian.  
  
As he approached with it, waves of heat came off of it. His Master frowned for a moment. “Do you want something to bite onto? It might make it easier.”

Rye nodded. He knew this was going to be excruciating, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of the pain. Having something to clamp on to, if nothing else, would muffle his screams. He watched the white hot obsidian as his Master put it down to go get something for him to bite.

He returned with a strip of leather, and Rye opened his mouth to accept it. His Master slipped it into place, the leather thick, and hard. Now all Rye had to do was not break any teeth with the force of his bite. His Master waved his hand over each mark, casting spells to stop the obsidian from spreading, or setting him on fire. Rye shivered as it really hit him just how much this was going to hurt.  
  
He clenched down on the leather, and waited for the pain. His Master took his hand, and pinned it in place, and began to pour the liquid stone into the small hole.

Rye screamed, howling his pain around the leather in his mouth, his teeth grinding down as tears streamed down his face. The room went dark for a moment, the pain unbearable, a sense of fire lancing up his arm, starting in his hand. He was sobbing, his face contorted in pain, his eyes never straying from his Master as he got ready to do the next hole.  
  
“There you go… that’s it, you’re doing beautifully,” his Master said.

Rye wasn’t sure he’d make it, but he refused to back down. At worst he’d pass out, and wake up with it done. That wasn’t what he wanted though. As much as it was agonizing, it was making him feel more alive again, more himself. Phillip’s rotting marks were burned away, leaving behind his Master’s vision. He wanted to treasure this, and he fought to remain conscious.  
  
His Master went slowly, taking his time to fill each and every one of the holes that Phillip had made. He took breaks when it looked like Rye had had too much, even suggested ending for the night and finishing tomorrow, but that suggestion was met with a shake of Rye’s head and determination to keep going, so they continued. Rye screamed through the whole process, his Master there, comforting him, and praising him the entire time.  
  
Finally, he had done all of them: Four in each arm, and two in each foot.He poured water over them, helping them cool faster. Rye’s brain was having a hard time processing all the pain, and all he wanted was to be held.  
  
“Are you alright?” his Master asked, his mouth turned down in a concerned frown.

Rye was exhausted, and had to stay still to not disturb the cooling process. He looked up at his Master, the question taking a moment to reach him, and smiled around the leather in his mouth. He had done it. He made it. He was still crying, and sniffling, but at least he was able to breathe again. He nodded his head. There was still pain, but he was feeling almost blissed out from the adrenaline rush. 

The obsidian was cooling, slowly but surely, and soon he would be complete again. The first ones in his hands were almost solidified, and it was a strange feeling to have something hard inside him. He didn’t dislike it though. It was like a small, constant reminder of his Master that he could feel within his body. He loved it.

He was mostly past screaming, as long as he didn’t move too much. He eased his jaw open and let the leather fall out, dragging all the moisture from his mouth with it.

“I’m doing great,” he told his Master, which was, in many ways, entirely true. “I feel so much better,” he cried. He felt almost drunk from the passing of the pain. Now that the initial pourings were done, the pain was almost bearable. He felt light, and giddy, and he had to stop smiling or he’d lose his concentration, and that always ended in pain.  
  
His Master returned his smile, with one of his own.  
  
“I hope you like it, because I think it looks absolutely exquisite. And you did so very well… I’m so proud of you. Look at how far you’ve come… Oh, Rye, I know I’ve said this a lot but you really are perfect.” he moved closer to him, and gently guided him to sit back a little, prompting him to spread his legs.  
  
“Would you like me to help take your mind off of the pain, now?”

Rye hummed with happiness at his Master’s sweet praise, savouring each word and tucking it away for later. As for taking his mind off the pain – he looked at his arms and while the centres weren’t cool, it was cool enough that if he didn’t move too much it should be fine.

“Yes,” he said, his voice cracking with desire. He held still and waited to see what his Master would do next.  
  
He watched him slowly crouch, as he began to undo his belt, gently touching Rye, caressing him, and stroking him until his cock got hard enough to pull out of his pants.  
  
“You’ve been such a good boy… You deserve a reward, I think. Would you like that?” His Master smirked at him, an almost playful gleam in his eye, as he moved his hand gently up and down Rye’s length. “Just sit back, and relax for me…”  
  
And then, he opened his mouth, and slowly slipped Rye’s cock in between his lips and began to suck.

Rye whimpered. His Master was sucking his cock, and it was perfection. A part of him felt strange seeing his Master like that, but who was he to tell him what to do? He moaned as his Master did something wicked and clever with his tongue, making him see stars, his hips bucking up. His Master took it easily, taking him apart with his talented tongue.

“Ah! Master!” Rye cried out. “So good, fuck – ffffuck, that’s so perfect, ah!” he wailed.

His hips were having a hard time staying still, rutting up into the tight heat of his Master’s mouth, his cock leaking and begging for more. His Master held him down by his hips, hands firm and steady as he bobbed his head, keeping his eyes locked on Rye. He felt like he was melting under the intensity of it all.  
  
Rye startled as he felt a brush against his mind, and then his Master’s voice was there, speaking to him, _There you go, perfect… Just like that… Listen to me, feel me… You’re doing so well. Just let go, let me make you feel good, Rye. Forget everything but me. Cum down my throat and I’ll drink everything of you._

His entire world was his Master, his voice inside his mind, his control, his desire, all of it was Rye’s to experience. The outside world, the workshop, the obsidian still burning away as it cooled – it all disappeared until all that was left was his Master and the pleasure building inside him. He cried out as his Master’s words filled him, and Rye came, screaming ‘Master, Master’ over and over again. 

His body shook, but he felt no pain, only the euphoria and bliss of release, his cock deep in his Master’s mouth, the tip rubbing against his throat. Tears streamed down his face as he answered his Master’s commands. It was too much, and not enough. His Master sucked every last drop from his cock, making him whine and squirm as he became over sensitive. When his Master slid off with a pop, Rye leaned back, panting as he tried to remember how to breathe, or move, or think.

He was vaguely aware of his Master checking the obsidian in his body, and then he was being swept into his arms, and kissed him, hard and claiming, and perfect. He was a little rough in his grip on him, possessive and tight, hands squeezing his shoulders and pulling him close. It felt wonderful.

“Good boy… You’re always so good. You make me so proud. I can’t believe how well you do, every time I challenge you,” his Master said. He kissed his neck, and then grasped his hand to kiss the first cooled and solid little bullet of obsidian embedded in him. Rye shivered with delight, seeing the shiny black stone in his skin, being so lovingly touched by the person who mattered most to him.

Rye blushed as he looked down at his body, at the sparkling black obsidian that dotted his form. He loved it, almost as much as he loved his Master. He squirmed deeper into his Master’s hold, wishing to be as close as he could be. 

Then a thought occurred to him – he had found release, but had his Master? That wouldn’t do at all. Still, he had to be gentle with his body as it cooled. 

“Master -” he queried. “You haven’t gotten to cum yet, have you?”

A fond smile spread over his Master’s face and he shook his head with a laugh. “Oh no, dear boy, watching you in all of your stunning glory was excitement enough for me. Besides you are not fully recovered yet. I hardly want to strain your body after this. But these do look lovely…” he ran fingers over the little jewels. “Do you like them?”

Rye smiled up at him, beaming with happiness.

  
  


  
“I love them! They’re perfect,” he said, sighing happily. “I may never wear a shirt or shoes again,” he told him with a laugh. “I kind of want to show them off, they’re so beautiful.” He looked at them, turning his hands this way and that way, letting the obsidian catch in the light, dark sparkles that showed how loved he was. “How long do you think they will take to cool completely?” he asked. “As much as I am enjoying this, I would enjoy it even more if I had proper use of my arms,” he said, wishing he could hold his Master as tightly as he was being held. 

“Oh perhaps an hour or so… let it properly set. But I’ll stay here with you in my arms for the duration so you don’t get bored.” Rye laughed as his Master winked at him, and relaxed into his arms, which was where he stayed for the rest of the night.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright lovelies, this is the last chapter of this piece! Thank you for coming on this adventure with us, and we hope you enjoyed it!! There will be more of these two eventually, but for now we're switching things up for a bit ^u^
> 
> Thanks for the love and support!! It's been fun!!

Rye had been stunning when he worked on him. His body in the throws of such beautiful agony, the way he’d endured it, the trust and adoration in his eyes as he further marked his body as his own. Williams couldn’t get enough of it all. Couldn’t get enough of _him_. That beautiful man trembling in his arms in a post orgasmic haze with little obsidian deposits through his body… that was perfect. He rocked him to sleep, stroking his hair and enjoying the afterglow.

A few more evenings went by, and he had let Rye continue to share his coffin rather than have a new one made. He told himself that it was because he didn’t think Rye was ready to sleep alone yet but in fact he didn’t really want to either. He watched Rye carefully to see how he was doing, and how he was settling in. There were grumbles among the human servants, many of whom had been waiting for years to be turned, but they were smart enough to keep their thoughts to themselves. Of course that didn’t help them with a Master that could read minds and emotions, but really so long as they didn’t act on their jealousy, he wasn’t going to hold it against them.

The vampire sirelings he already had viewed Rye as an intrusion as well, but they were more quick to understand exactly why their Master had a new favourite. He was sure that any lingering animosity would die down within a decade. He wasn’t overly concerned, and spent his time instead keeping a careful watch of Rye himself, to make certain that he was getting on alright. That he learned his way around the manor, that he learned the basics of vampire life. Acquainted him with the human servants that were there for feeding on exclusively. After a few nights, he thought it was time to address some loose threads that were still left hanging.

“Rye, there is a certain order of business in town that needs taking care of… would you like to help me with it?”

He watched as Rye perked up at being asked for help, setting aside the book he had been reading.

“Of course,” he said, the smile on his face conveying that he was more than happy to assist in any way he could. “What do you need me to do?” he asked. It made Williams want to smother him in kisses anew. Rye was so darling, and so eager to please at all times, it was hard to restrain himself.

Instead he simply smiled back, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well you see, a lot of things need to be done during the daylight hours, for which human servants are a necessity. And it’s even better if I can have some in positions of power on my side, it tends to make things run more smoothly. I had planned on making a day servant of the Sheriff, but, well.” He chuckled, and gave a helpless little shrug. “Things didn’t go as planned. But now there is a new Sheriff! So perhaps you’d like to coax him over to my side of things for me?”

Rye’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “You were going to make me a servant?” he asked, mirth colouring the words. “I see that went _exactly_ as planned.” He rolled his eyes with a grin that flashed his fangs, showing just how ‘according to plan’ everything had actually gone. “And lucky for me it didn’t too,” he added with a coy little smile.

“Parker may be a bit of a problem – since I am a wanted man after all.” He sighed as he seemed to be considering the issue, mulling it over. “But I suspect he’ll still trust me on some level. It may prove to be a challenge, but then I like challenges. He’s fairly easy going, but there’s a sharp mind underneath his easy smiles. How do I get him enthralled?” he asked. “I haven’t really tried doing this before, and it could be trouble for us all if I mess up. The most I’ve done is enthralled a horny drunk man, and this isn’t quite the same thing,” he muttered. His eyes slid to the ceiling, as though he were thinking out loud to himself, now.

Williams considered the question. “Well, the fact that you already have a connection with him helps. Remember when you enchanted the drunk man, how you were able to sense his thoughts, his desires? That isn’t always sex. Parker may need you to tell him you had a noble cause, or a logical reason. Simply find his needs and play into them. You’ll be able to sense them easier since you’re already familiar with him. And while we do need his mind functioning, you can hypnotize him a little, nudge his mind towards trusting you, implant positive feelings about yourself. Since I’m your sire, you’ve inherited my abilities, and this is the perfect task on which to hone them.”

They walked as they spoke, Rye hanging on his every word. He looked a little like a school boy, like he wanted a chalk board so that he could jot down some notes as he was instructed. Williams had every confidence that Rye would be able to pull off the job without any trouble, however, and gave him a reassuring smile as they made their way through the town.

As they went he kept one hand on his back, guiding him gently, until they reached the Sheriffs office under cover of nightfall. “I will be here,” he told him with a wink, “but I’m going to be a mist, so that Parker will only see you.” And with that he gave him a quick peck on the cheek before he de-solidified, letting his body relax and dissipate into the air, enveloping Rye and spreading out into the surroundings. He was aware, he was silent and invisible to the humans now, and he watched as Rye nodded, lingering for just a moment within his form, and then walked on silent feet into the Sheriff’s office.

The new Sherrif, Parker, was seated at the desk with his feet up, his arms crossed over his chest, and his chin tilted downwards. His hat was tipped over his face, and it was apparent from the gentle sounds of snore that he was asleep. It was a late night, after all, and humans had trouble with the nighttime hours. Rye strode in with confidence and banged his hand on the table loudly.

“Sleeping on the job, Sheriff?” Rye said, and he laughed as the man jerked awake. Williams observed his eyes crinkling a little at the edges from where he swirled around him like a fog. Parker’s eyes landed on Rye’s face, and his own went through a whole host of emotions: disbelief, anger, hurt, relief. All emotions that Williams had observed in humans time and time again, though it never failed to be fascinating to watch.

“Rivers – I’ve heard a lot of things about you since you abandoned us all those months ago. Care to explain yourself before I arrest you?” Parker asked. He sounded angry, hurt. Williams swirled around him, reached out to brush his mind, and that Rye was doing the same. He encountered his consciousness there, and made way to let him read the confusion and the intense desire to understand that was swelling through Parker’s mind now. Parker was putting on a tough act, and he couldn’t wait to see how Rye would work with that.

“Calm down Parker. I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” Rye soothed him, putting up his hands in a sign of surrender. Williams observed that his voice was smooth and confident, easily lilting through the lies he was about to feed his former subordinate. “I’m no more guilty of what they say on my poster than you are,” he said, hitting the poster that had been pinned up of him above the desk. “Besides, you and I both know nothing out here in the wastes is as black and white as the rich city folks would have us believe,”

Parker’s frown deepened, but his fingers twitched away from the gun at his side. “So what really happened?” He asked. He was already letting his guard down, already wanting, no, _needing_ to trust the former Sheriff.

“An ambush of sorts – there’s corruption that runs deep Parker, and they don’t like that I know too much. I shouldn’t even be here. I’m putting you at risk -” Rye said, putting on a dramatic show, before he turned as if to leave. As if he’d changed his mind on bringing Parker into the know of the secret conspiracy.

“Wait!” Parker said, reaching forward to grab his arm. That was perfect… the moment that Rye needed.

Rye turned into his grip, and looked him in the eyes. Williams was proud to see Rye exerting himself, his will, against Parkers, lulling him with his gaze, letting his power flow out and around the Sheriff.

“Maybe I can help you. I never wanted to believe what they were saying – that you killed a group of innocent men -” he stammered, his eyes wide as he looked into Ryes, like he was begging him to give him any other kind of explanation.

“Innocent?” Rye laughed. “They were the ones who murdered everyone on that train, Parker. I stopped them – city folk don’t understand the necessity of _dealing_ with a problem,” he said. That at the very least was not a lie. Parker would be able to feel the truth of it, the legitimacy of Rye’s point of view, feel it down into his core. “Tell me Sheriff, do you feel you should be hanged for doing your job?” he asked.

Parker was watching him with wide eyes, and he shook his head no.

“Exactly. See, men like _us_ Parker, we know what needs to be done. That’s why I joined a group that’s trying to…right the wrongs in the world,” Rye said, the lie falling so easily from his mouth. Williams would have beamed at him if he’d had a face in that moment. “And they need good men – like yourself – men willing to do what’s necessary to protect people,” Rye was still letting his mind gently tug at Parker’s, lulling him into a feeling of safety, of companionship, of duty and honor.

“What group is it?” Parker asked.

“I can’t say, Parker – I wish I could – but it’s very hush hush, seeing as we’re going around the law,” he said.

“That’s not right, Rye,” Parker said.

“It is though,” Rye cooed, and Williams could feel as the words sank into Parker’s being. Parker’s eyes fluttered a little, a small whimper escaping his lips like his body was trying to fight it off… and losing. “Think about it – the rich get to decide who is guilty on a whim, while murderers are protected – where’s the right in that?” Rye’s voice was hypnotic now, each word only increasing his hold on Parker.

All Rye needed now was one more push to send him tumbling into his power completely.

“I know I left you behind in a mess,” Rye said. “And I’m sorry for that, but Parker – we can change things, can help people – actual help, not just false promises. Not like with your parents,” Rye said. Williams watched as there was a shift in Parker, a sudden gleam in his eyes, and as he brushed up against his mind he felt the desire for vengeance, for _justice_. Rye had him. Hook, line, and sinker.

“You wouldn’t have to get involved in anything bad – just keep me and my people abreast of anything running afoul – we can help you Parker. We can help make sure nothing like what happened to your parents happens again -” Rye said, his voice low. Parker’s mind was eating up all of his words.

“So I just need to let you know if anything bad is happening?” Parker asked.

“More or less,” Rye said, and he squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Like I said, I don’t want you getting hurt, but with your help we could change the world. You would be a hero, Parker, to more folks than you’d ever realize,” he said.

Parker looked at him, and smiled – a genuine smile. Rye returned to him him a what was a fairly close proximity to a genuine smile.

“Alright, I’ll help for now,” Parker said, clearly still trying to be tough. “But Rye – if I find out you’re lying – I’ll kill you,” Parker said, voice soft, turning a little uncertain again as Rye released his hypnotic influence on him.

“Oh Parker, you’re welcome to try,” Rye said, clapping him on the back. Parker let out a pleased laugh.

“Gods, I missed you,” he said. “I’m glad you haven’t changed – save for the moustache,” Parker said, poking Rye’s face. Williams watched as Rye gave a good natured laugh at that. He had changed in many, many ways beyond just the missing moustache, but Parker didn’t need to know any of those details.

“We’ll be in contact,” Rye said, ruffling his hair. Parker seemed to all but beam at the friendly gesture. “Unless you want to arrest me,” Rye said.

“Not yet. We’ll see how it goes,” Parker teased.

Rye made to leave the building, sauntering outside with a smile on his face. Williams could see Parker get up from his desk and carefully follow behind him from a distance, creeping along several paces away. Oh ho… so the good Sheriff was not to be secured quite so easily. He wondered if Rye would notice, or if he would have to step in.

Sure enough, after Rye had gotten a little ways down the street, mist swirling around his ankles, the sireling stopped. He paused, his head jerking up as though realizing that something was a miss. Slowly he turned around, and spotted Parker hiding just a ways away behind a bush.

“Following me? Really?” Rye asked.

“How did you -” Parker stammered.

“Parker – I trained you. I know you and your ways,” Rye said, sighing. “You can’t know more than I’ve told you. There would be no coming back from that, and the people here need you,” Rye said.

“They needed _you,_ ” Parker growled, his anger coming back. He straightened up and walked over to him, his brow furrowed and his tone grumbling.

“No, they needed someone who could give themselves to the job. That was never me,” Rye said. “You were always the better choice. Hell, had I known how things would have turned out, I might have appointed you sheriff years ago and retired.” Williams could feel the honestly in those words, the real longing in Rye’s mind. Rye really had never enjoyed his position. It was the most truthful sentiment he had told Parker all night.

Parker just stood there, looking frustrated. Rye sighed, and shrugged, holding up his hands again.

“Go on then – hit me. You’ll feel better.” Rye said. Parker blinked at him, seemed to pause to consider the offer, and then launched himself at his face without waring, his fist hitting hard. Williams felt a little agitated just watching it, and the mist of his being grew thicker, swirling up a little around Parker’s form. He knew that Parker couldn’t actually hit Rye hard enough to hurt him, that Rye was putting on the reactions a regular human would have to being struck, but it still irked him all the same.

“Gods above, are you made of bricks?!” Parker growled as he cradled his hand.

“See, now don’t you feel better?” Rye asked, rubbing his cheek tenderly as though it actually hurt. The mist that was Williams settled a little, enveloping his sireling again, drawing closer to inspect the spot- just in case.

“I may have broken a finger -” Parker grunted.

“Serves you right then,” Rye said, laughing. “I’ll see you around Sheriff,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away again, and clearly being careful to avoid the buildings and anyone up late drinking at the saloon. Williams went with him, sweeping along on the breeze until they were well away from any prying eyes. Then, once they were a safe distance away, he pulled himself together, stepping into the moonlight.

“That was wonderfully done, Rye. Good job. And you weren’t even completely lying, either. As you have seen, I am _very_ protective of what is mine, so working for me _is_ working for the greater good of the people of this city, after all. I hope you won’t mind checking in on him from time to time for me. The truth of what we are may be able to be revealed to him someday… slowly, over time, there is never any rush.”

He paused for a moment, as they walked, looking Rye over and letting his mind wander over his. “Do you miss him? Or any of the people from your old life?”

Rye paused for a moment, and tilted his head to contemplate the question. It was a serious question, after all, and Williams was very curious as to the answer.

“Would it be cold of me to say no?” he asked. “Parker, I think, had a deeper relationship with me than I did with him, if that makes sense? I had distanced myself so much in order to be impartial as Sheriff, but at the end of the day I’m not sure I liked the people. They all wanted something, always demanding me to do this or fix that. There was no gratitude, just endless demands…” He trailed off, and then looked up at Williams and let out a small, happy sigh.

“Besides, how can I miss all this when I have you?” he asked. Williams felt him grab him by the hand and press a quick kiss to the back of it, and as he did so the obsidian in his own hand sparkled in the pale light of the moon.

Williams smiled and drew him in for a hug and a kiss. “It’s not cold of you. Everyone has different things they want and need out of life… your old life was not either for you. That isn’t your fault. And if you want to see anyone again ever, if you miss them, you are not barred from their company. You can charm them, hypnotize them, drink from them if you like. The world is yours, and I will teach you how to be in it from the shadows as I am. I am glad that you happy now… there is so much I will show you over the centuries.”

He put an arm around his waist as he walked them back to the manor… the next thing to teach him would have to do how to transform into a mist for more ease of travel. But there was, as ever, no rush… there was years and years for him to master everything. Time spent in the shadows would pass like a dream, and Williams was of the mind that it was a wonderful dream. He was glad that Rye was as well.

“I never intended to fall for you…” He mused, looking at Williams with a small smile. “But you were just so yearning, so ready to be taken, to be _rescued._ I sensed it the moment I met you.” He stopped for a moment to gather up Rye’s hands in his, smiling at him in the moonlight.

“We’ll have a wonderful eternity together.” 

  
  



End file.
